Learning Responsibility For What I Want
by Meg Glynn

Before finding Orgasmic Meditation, I had a prestigious job, was top of my class in graduate school, was a marathon runner, but felt somehow dry on the inside. I lived in a luxury apartment but had no one to share it with. I hadn’t had a relationship for a while and was on a kick to be "fiercely independent." I thought I didn’t need anyone, especially a man.

I judged myself as broken. I'd had a rough adolescence, one that included a lot of unhealthy relationships with men. I was addicted to affirmation. I drank for the liquid courage to connect with men, and my alcohol addiction and my need for validation fed each other.

Travel was my escape, living from one trip to the next. My daily life was not was not that exciting for me. My connections with other people were mostly through a haze of alcohol -- and deeply unsatisfying. Soon after getting back from one drunken vacation, I went on a work trip to California -- and someone I met told me about Orgasmic Meditation.

I was so excited I couldn’t sleep that night thinking about it. I had never done any personal development work or meditation, but I was instantly curious about OM. I listened to a talk on OM that I found online and stayed connected to the guy who had told me about it, not quite ready to try it but deeply intrigued.

I OMed for the first time in January 2017 with the guy who told me about it. As soon as his finger touched my clitoris, it felt like my brain shut off for the first time. I was always over analyzing things and never felt I could turn my mind fully off.

In that first OM, I remember vivid colors and shapes and noticed sensations in my body throughout the experience. It didn’t feel like anything I'd felt before; it was like a powerful perceptual experience. But it was more of a mental experience, not a bodily one. My takeaway was a deep knowing that the practice was super powerful and there was something there for me. So, I took a course to learn to OM and built a practice with people in Newark.

My first breakthrough came from learning to say yes or no when asking for an OM. I remember a guy I met in Israel asking me if I wanted to come back to his hotel room with him. I said no. It was the first time, at 29 years old, I could deliver a firm no to a man. I was so proud of myself. The no felt so good in my body that I messaged a friend and celebrated with her!

Developing a clean yes or no when it came to men was huge for me. It came directly from learning to ask for OMs without expectations and saying yes or no to OMs without having to explain myself.

The second thing I learned was that I was a powerful woman in my work and in grad school. But so often, once in a relationship with a man, all of my power disappeared. I had no voice. I felt trapped and powerless, like I couldn’t say what I wanted or leave the room if I wanted to.

My breakthrough in this area came from asking the stroker for adjustments during an OM. At first, I would want to say stroke left or right, but it seemed like my tongue was stuck in peanut butter. I couldn’t get it out. I thought the stroker was more experienced at OM than I was. So, I didn’t need to adjust his stroking. This mirrored my intimate experiences. I would let the guy determine what happened; I didn't expect anything for myself.

I gradually started giving small adjustments here and there during OMs. I constantly checked in with myself to see what felt right. After a year and a half of saying what I wanted in an OM, it translated to being able now to ask a man for what I want.

My body had been ignited. It was no longer about pleasing a man. I started feeling more and more, like I was going through puberty again. When sober (I gave up drinking six months after OMing), even kissing felt super sensational throughout my body, like I was a teenager. I could feel people in a room. I could feel the environment more. There was a crazy amount of sensation in my body at all times. It was like I was relearning myself as an adult, relearning all of the sensations in my body. 

Being vulnerable and exposing my genitals in OM, while still feeling safe because of the consistent protocols in every OM, helped me shift a lot of fear I had around victimization and the idea men weren’t safe.

I now take ownership and responsibility for my relationships. Rather than connection with others being something that’s done to me, it happens for me. Not only do I feel like I am part of the experience, I can also initiate it and be responsible for what I want, just like in an OM.

Before OM, I would dissociate, leave my body any time things got intense with another person.. Now, I stay checked into my body’s sensations, same as when I OM. My ability to stay present to my feelings the entire time makes me really grateful for this practice. My voice is more expressed, and I feel right with myself.

I used to have a payback mentality. If someone did anything for me, I would have to pay it back three times over. I’d give a lot and expect pennies in return. OM being a shared practice, with each partner taking full responsibility for their experience without having to reciprocate, went against my beliefs. But OM taught me that I deserve to receive. Building my capacity to receive through OMing was the first time I put attention on my femininity—to be proud of it and grow it rather than keep myself small. That has been really liberating.