by Harriet Arnold
I experienced sexual abuse as a child. As a little girl, my mom not only didn’t protect me, instead, she often said, “Go calm the beast,” meaning my dad. The whole family knew about it. After that, I never trusted women much and never opened up to women. As an adult, my first husband turned out to be a pedophile, and I got psychological counseling for that. After that, I experienced two more basically frigid marriages.
After my last divorce, I was very shy, insecure, and introverted. I moved to Texas to be with my family, and it was a good decision. They had teenagers, and I kind of kept an eye on them and helped cook and clean in exchange for room and board. I did that for two years while I dove into my work as a software engineer. I had no desire to do anything but work in my dark, quiet cave. That’s where I felt good.
After a couple of years, though, I did start feeling alone. I met a guy who invited me to an Introduction to OM—Orgasmic Meditation class. I had never heard anything about it, and though he described it to me, he also left out a few details. I was kind of shocked. But what was even more shocking was that after the OM—Orgasmic Meditation demonstration and the class, I said yes to trying OM myself. I thought, “Okay, my toes are already in the water. I’ve gone this far; why not just go for it?”
I thought I'd be uncomfortable, but I was eventually able to relax. I didn’t reach orgasm, but I felt comfortable, which puzzled me. I am usually very logical and assume that things go logically in order. This was one of the few times in my life where that didn’t happen. I was out of my head and in my body, and that felt good.
I used to be goal-oriented toward a climax. With Orgasmic Meditation, I learned to relax instead of go for climax. And each time I did that, I felt more relaxed and focused. I could follow the stroking finger and relax and have a deeper sensation—the kind of sensation that I could feel vibrate up my spine. I'd never experienced that kind of sensation before.
I've found my voice in the three years I’ve been OMing. I can ask for an adjustment when needed. Maybe two years into the practice, I started feeling actual pain during an Orgasmic Meditation session—a tightness in my chest where my arms and shoulders would vibrate.
I don’t like losing control, and the sensations took me into my head because I had had a heart attack years before. I was a little concerned about my health, but for some reason, I knew I was going to be okay. So, I stayed in the OM, asking myself, “What is this?” I stayed steady with it.
Occasionally, that pain will still come up, and each time, it feels like I’m peeling back another layer of the onion. Now, even though it’s painful sometimes, I almost seek those experiences out. Afterward, my eyes are tearing, and it feels like I’ve released something—I don’t know what I've released, but that’s not important. I know in my heart and in my genitals that something got released. It’s a slow sensation, almost like a ghost went through me. After that tightness is released, I feel an electrical tingling that goes down my body and out my toes. I experience more genital blood flow and feel goosebumps, and overall, I just feel gorgeous and warm.
Because of Orgasmic Meditation, I went from this very repressed, shy, introverted software engineer—this logical, cold person living in the dark—to a woman who enjoys her body and feels at ease in her nakedness. Orgasmic Meditation put the finger right on the spot and helped me release the trauma. I don’t think I could have done that without the practice.
Business-wise, I’m enjoying the sense of personal expansion. I talk with strangers. I can talk on the phone a little better. I’m a better leader, and I’m a better follower. I’ve started connecting with and opening up around women—and it’s women who have helped me do that. In my personal life, I feel more empowered to say no. I’m safe. I have a voice. I feel more empowered to explore income opportunities outside of software engineering. I’m exploring unusual lifestyles. I’m reprogramming 50-something years of training that says little girls are supposed to grow up and dream of being married and having a prince to look after them. I’m throwing that out the window.
Today, I’m leaning into life’s challenges, getting out of victim mode, and opening up my heart to what the universe has probably been slapping me with for a long time, saying, “Wake up! Here! I’m handing this to you on a silver platter!”
I still have a long way to go, but I’m on my way.
