by Charity Danker
Let me tell you a little bit about what it’s like to be raised a Southern Baptist woman. I swear, all God knew how to say was no. Through his prophets, my parents, and community leaders, that is. No television, young lady. No make-up either. Oh, definitely no pants or haircuts.
And on it went. There were no opinions, no expression of oneself. I had a great voice. I loved to sing. But I was always told to hush and quiet that singing because I drew too much attention.
As I got older, I was a very beautiful girl, and it was the same sort of thing. No dancing. Cover up that skin. You’re drawing stares! Females were to be seen, not heard, and only in appropriate ways. They were to do what men wanted, even if it most definitely was not what they wanted—no touching yourself. If you were sexually assaulted, it was your fault. You had brought it on yourself.
I rebelled against all these things in my teens and early twenties. Hard. I realized how flat-out wrong all this was, and I started following my desire. I listened to my genitals as they became really turned on. Friends were in awe of me, of my sexual energy. I was a force that people were drawn to. I felt free, and I felt like myself.
Over time, I became a mother and a therapist, and all that “no” I’d been denying crept back into my life. I started dressing differently and stopped doing the things I enjoyed. I felt like I had to act the part of the mom, and the only moms I had ever seen were not, I repeat, NOT sexual.
It just sort of crept up on me. Suddenly, I looked in the mirror and barely recognized myself. No sensuality. No turn-on. I had lost my orgasm, both figuratively and literally. My clitoris had felt numb for years. I was losing my ability to climax.
And I was a sex therapist! This was totally unacceptable. So, I started researching, and that’s how I found out about OM—Orgasmic Meditation.
There weren’t a lot of qualified Orgasmic Meditation instructors in Oklahoma City at the time, believe it or not. So, the first few times I tried it with my partner, I barely felt anything because I had to be in teacher mode. I had watched an instructional video, done some reading and talked to a few people on the phone, but my partner had done none of this. I was so focused on getting us through the steps that getting out of my own head was impossible.
Just asking for an OM is such a big part of the process. Getting those yeses and noes and feeling into that without judgment. You can’t OM without somebody else, so there’s a certain dependence there and a certain vulnerability required before you even step foot in the nest.
I kept at it, and my first Orgasmic Meditation with someone other than my partner came while I was visiting in California. He was much older than me, and I was initially reticent. I had only ever OMed with my partner; she was back in OKC. But it was what I wanted, and it was most definitely what my genitals wanted. It was the first OM I was able to let go and sink into my body fully. I had not felt that much sensation in my clitoris in years.
Along with conceding to all the no's my parents had imposed upon me as a kid, the last decade of my life had found me overwhelmed by all the yeses I had bestowed upon both my partner and my children. Within a few months of starting Orgasmic Meditation, I relearned how to say yes to myself. And sometimes, that means saying no to the demands of others.
It feels as though I’ve rediscovered a strength I’d lost somewhere. In practicing, time and again, how to ask for adjustments, I’ve found my voice. If I ask my partner to stop mid-OM, they will. I’ve gotten so much respect and acceptance from my OM partners that I’ve become able to expect it…no, demand it from the rest of the world.
And I’m magnetic again. I can feel people light up when I walk into the room, and I know it’s because of my turn-on. The more that you’re in that spot listening to your genitals and to how your body feels when you’re in an Orgasmic Meditation, the more your turn-on shines outside in the world. I’m overflowing with confidence. I’ve found my turn-on again.
