About a year before I started OMing, I remember a friend telling me about this group that she was going to, which was all about authentic relating. She described how she’d spent the evening staring into other people’s eyes and talking about her feelings, and everything she was saying scared me so much I had to ask her to stop talking about it. “That sounds like the worst night you could possibly have!” I said. “Why would you go do these things?” I simply couldn’t grasp it because I had no desire to be vulnerable. I had no desire to let people in. I had no desire to admit my feelings and, God forbid, tell someone about them.
I found my way to Orgasmic Meditation (OM) via a dating site. I met a guy online who lived in Houston who wanted to go to an introductory event with the communication games. I was new to the area and showed up because I was looking for something interesting and a way to meet people. Even though people sharing feelings and intimate things about themselves felt like high stakes to me, I managed to stay within my comfort zone and not feel too vulnerable. The part I didn’t want to admit then was that I also felt really excited and exhilarated by the intimacy available there. I signed up to do the intro course afterward, mainly because I liked all the people who were there. I was curious, with nothing to lose. I figured, “Oh, well, worst case, somebody strokes me, and if I don't like it, whatever.”
To my logical mind, it was all really about the tangible practice, which was a little bit of an adrenaline rush just thinking about it. Once I started the practice, though, I didn’t physically feel a lot the whole first month. It all just felt like some kind of awkward, boundary-crossing gynecological visit. I was constantly saying, “I need more pressure. I need more pressure. I need it faster!” I was a hundred percent in my head the whole time and so numb overall that I couldn’t feel anything.
Then I had this really unique opportunity that I think that maybe a lot of women don't have—I had an OM with another woman, one where she stroked me. It felt really loving and very gentle. She created this incredible, safe space for me that felt like a really private, intimate experience, which, at that time, was still wildly uncomfortable for me. But there was something about being stroked by a woman who gave me permission to allow her in a little bit more.
After that, I actually started feeling emotions and crying more often, which was great. I started getting connected with more women—not just chatting about the logistical things happening in my life over cocktails, which is what a lot of my female connections looked like. I was getting to really share what was happening with me, how I was feeling, and how the world was impacting me.
Every person’s OM-Orgasmic Meditation journey is different. I used to hear women talk about having these mind-blowing OMs. But that wasn’t my experience. For me, things didn’t change overnight. It was incremental changes that were hardly even noticeable. But then I’d suddenly realize, “Oh, I can feel this now.” Or “Wow. I'm able to ask for things now!”
My most memorable OM was so slow. I’ve always been an impatient person, urging my partners to stroke faster. But there was one OM where I felt it couldn't go slowly enough. It was so soft and slow that I could hardly believe he was touching me. Again, a little thing created a big change because that one OM showed me that I have the power to open my body, feel, and receive.
Because of Orgasmic Meditation (OM), I’ve learned to receive external opportunities better. For example, I got laid off and had to move back from San Francisco with family in Texas. All I could do was laugh because I’d been relentlessly asking the universe to move me back down here to reconnect with my family and escape the winter cold. It didn’t happen how I wanted, but it's exactly what I wanted. Five years ago, I would not have seen the opportunity. I would have been too busy complaining about the move and feeling like a failure, living a story that wasn’t true at all.
I've also learned it's much better and more rewarding when I can say an uncomfortable thing to a friend and then sit in that discomfort and see it through to the other side. Orgasmic Meditation taught me how to be with the discomfort, open to it rather than brace against it, and be curious about it. You stick with it and learn how to adjust it. And I apply everything I’ve learned there to uncomfortable situations in relationships—not only with people I might be dating but with my friendships, too.
For example, a couple of years ago, I had a messy falling out with a friend that was really painful. They recently called me to reopen our connection and apologize. It was an immense call for me, and if I’d taken it five years ago, I would have been silent the whole time. I would have given up nothing, which would have made them feel even worse by the end of the call. And I could genuinely thank them for what they had to say, and at the end, I said, “I miss you,” and cried and didn't feel like I was the weak one. And then I just said, “How the hell are you??” We were able to move on and catch up. I didn't hold that grudge the way I would have. I was actually able to sit through the discomfort of my feelings being hurt, and here they are, wanting to make it right. I have a choice here and choose to let the love in. Seeing that and making that choice has been one of the biggest rewards I’ve gained from the practice.
Today, I’m in a place that’s 180 degrees from my original fear of intimacy. All my life, I had this story that I couldn’t be vulnerable and cry because no one could possibly like someone who was all red-eyed and blubbery and snotty. I remember I was scheduled to hang out with some friends who also practiced Orgasmic Meditation. I had an emotional day at work, felt teary and vulnerable, and didn’t want to go. I tried to cancel, but I actually listened when people said, “Come as you are. There is space for you here.” And I went. I had permission to cry and be real, and when people told me, “You’re beautiful,” I believed them.
I finally could let the love in.
