I came into my first marriage with a lot of shame -- and a lot of inability to name what I wanted.
By the time I fell in love with my first husband, I felt at war with my own desires. Early on, I told Lowell about my past and the experiences I had had (and enjoyed) with other men. Lowell was jealous and angry, and I felt even more ashamed. I let his anger snuff out my passion, and I let it shame me. I own my part, particularly my inability to speak up and push back. I just froze myself out of self-protection, and I ended up freezing myself right out of that marriage by the time I was 25. Looking back, I see a pattern of not being clear with men about my needs. In my marriage, I certainly wanted intimacy more than Lowell did. It was hard to ask for it for fear I'd look desperate and unattractive to him, and it was painful not to be desired. I felt rejected and lonely.
Once we were separated, I did a lot of self-healing work. I read books and took online classes, trying to work through what went wrong in my marriage. I was determined to believe that passion does not have to die in a long-term relationship. Growth became my number one value. I went to a yoga exhibition and strolled past rows of booths for groups discussing aspects of wellness. I sat down for a talk on intermittent fasting, but it was canceled at the last minute. A woman came onstage to talk about Orgasmic Meditation (OM). She said, “This is the opposite of fasting.”
So much of what she said felt absolutely right to me. It struck me that OM wasn't a hack. So many products and classes promise quick ways to improve one's life. Orgasmic Meditation (OM) was clearly a profound practice that required focus and brought insights. I dived right in.
Adjustments are an important part of OMing. When the strokee feels the stroking is a bit off, she can ask the stroker to change the movements to return to the spot of the highest sensation. In the beginning, it was hard for me to ask for adjustments. When I became aware of what I wanted, it would take me a whole minute to bring it up, and by then, it would no longer apply. Often, I would notice my voice being shaky. It took me a while to feel confident about asking for what I wanted.
Two years into my practice, I was having an OM with a man, and it was nearing its end. The timer had gone off, and he was applying the grounding pressure that follows the stroking. His hands were in an awkward position, and it didn't feel good. I thought, Okay, I can put up with this for the last five seconds, and then I'll never have to talk to him again. I reacted to that thought as if I was running from telling the truth. It occurred to me that I could slow down and tell him what to do.
“Can you place this hand over that hand? Then cup them and press upward.” I spoke in a completely neutral way, with no criticism implied. That one remark brought us to a point of connection. When we shared frames at the end, he said he would never have understood the positioning had I not explained it that way. He was grateful for the adjustment. It always blows my mind that people like receiving adjustments in a neutral tone so they can learn how to do something right. That little experience had so much packed into it. I realized how far I'd come, just being able to give an adjustment in real-time. I saw how a mature strokee isn't taking on entitlement, assuming the stroker should know what he's doing. She actually makes the stroker more brilliant by how she adjusts him. Giving that adjustment was an act of generosity because the next person that man OMs with will have less of a barrier to a satisfying ending.
The implications go even further. It was a case of, Okay, I could wait a few seconds and not have to deal with it, but I'm experiencing it now. There's a practice of admitting the truth right now and having the courage to name it. Orgasmic Meditation has helped me have more neutrality around reporting the truth. It doesn't make someone a good or a bad person. It's just what you're experiencing. In my relationships, I've found the truth contains an electricity that can bring us into connection.
Both inside and outside of Orgasmic Meditation (OM), the truth is often associated with the point of highest sensation. I've been in a relationship for three years. One day, my partner and I made the decision to become monogamous. A week later, he wanted to talk about it again because he was wavering. Like any human, he was afraid about taking a big step. I didn't like that. At first, I was impatient with him, thinking we should have had this conversation a week ago. Then I realized We're having the conversation now. This is the experience we're having right now. Can I open it now?
What actually came out of that conversation was the admission that I felt uncertain about where we were in our relationship. He said he did, too. I came to see that I have an attachment to certainty. If a relationship is going through uncertainty, it's bad. It shouldn't be happening. But as soon as we both said that we were uncertain and didn't know what was going to happen in our relationship, I felt more connected to him. Even though it wasn't what I wanted to hear or feel, the truth brought us into greater intimacy.
My desire is my responsibility. I have to find a way to get to a state of rightness with it. Part of my work as a woman is undoing places where I gravitate towards shame. I've learned that shame can be an effort to protect myself by covering up desire. Maybe I feel undeserving, or I fear I'll be rejected. But the desire is still there. I have an electric and alive relationship now. I knew it was possible, but I had to allow myself to open up my hunger and feast fully. It was scary. I worried. Will he still love me when he sees how much is in here? Cracking myself open and being with the discomfort helped clear a lot of shame. I'm reaching a new level of what it is to be powerful and what it is to be a passionate woman.
