The other day, I was putting up fliers at this new job I have. It’s a difficult job, and it’s required me to move away from a lot of the people and things I’m connected to. Honestly, I want to be living near my old community right now, with friends, but instead I’m living alone in a hotel room in Westchester County. I’m feeling a little isolated and disconnected.
Earlier in my life, I wouldn't have known how to process my feelings around feeling lonely. I would have thought something was wrong with me, that I needed medication. Before discovering OM, I was always obsessed with doing everything
right, being spiritual and ascended-- and better than everyone else.
Looking back, I was just super lonely. I always felt a little different,
and I think I struggled with finding my people. It caused a lot of
anxiety. Now, though, I can see that I simply have a need for more connection and in OM I even have a tool to satisfy that need.
My parents were always positive and open around intimacy. When I asked my mom about it, she would tell me that she wanted me to have the experience of intimacy. Never feel like there was something wrong or shameful about it, even if I was only a teenager. And yet, I was lonely.
My mom and my dad were both pretty open around sex. They were loving and supportive. And yet I still came away with a lot of sexual shame that I carry around. My mom is actually the person who introduced me to Orgasmic Meditation. I remember she started practicing when I was 19. When I asked her about it, she told me about it in a way that was digestible and appropriate. I thought it was a bit weird at first. But then I saw her life open up. I saw her change in such powerful ways. She quit her job, separated from my father, sold the house.
When I tried OM myself for the first time with my then-partner, one of the first things I learned was that I was a liar. My whole life, one of my core values had been truth. ‘I always tell the truth,’ I’d told myself. Those first OMs felt choppy, difficult, confronting, and enlightening. They felt like I’d been lying to myself, somehow. I was shocked and scared. And so, I worked on it. I’m still working on it. After OM, I can say I know what I want, and I have higher standards.
A big part of that was learning to tell the truth about what I want. It took me 11 months before I could make a proper adjustment. But since then, I can make adjustments everywhere. I realized I used to make little passive aggressive remarks to people instead of coming out with the truth. Someone would bring me a glass of water with two lemon wedges in it instead of the one I asked for, and I’d be like, “Oh, thanks. That’s a lot of lemon…” Now, I can thank them, with a whole heart, but still ask them to please bring me one lemon wedge next time. It seems small, but it’s not.
In an OM, when I make an adjustment, my stroker says, “Thank you.” They say it with their whole heart. It lets me know that men want to show up for me. They want me in my truth. That’s where our connection lies: in raw, intimate honesty. I’ve been dating someone, and I never thought to do this before, but I was completely honest with him that I don’t want a boyfriend right now. Not in the meet-my-parents, Facebook-official sort of way. I built a container around the relationship, and I built it with honesty. And I'm thankful that in OM, I have the tools to build the life I want.