I always had trouble trusting men. My dad was an alcoholic, and it was very hard to get close to him. I yearned to be able to sit across from him and have a conversation about my life and share stories. It seemed impossible. My brother stopped speaking to me when I was 16 because I kept throwing parties in our house against his will, and he felt like I didn’t respect his space.
I learned something early on about men: even if I did ask them for what I wanted, I often didn’t get it. With women, it felt like I didn’t even need to ask. They felt much safer.
By my twenties, I’d pretty much created a life devoid of men. I dated women and had all these women friends. I wasn’t looking to be with men. My relationships with women weren’t that healthy either, though, because I didn’t know how to manage my appetite. I’d get into a relationship, and then, once my desire for other people came up, I’d get depressed about being in the relationship, and it would end. I had a lot of on-and-off relationships, because I’d keep breaking up with my partners, unable to be faithful. I assumed I was incapable of having a long-term relationship because there was something wrong with me.
No matter who I was with, I didn’t really feel free to be myself. I often felt like I was too intense or had too much to say and had to shrink myself to be more palatable. I was afraid I’d scare people away if I fully expressed myself.
In college, I had severe anxiety and was told my best option was to take Xanax. I didn’t want to sedate myself, so I started looking for alternative healing methods. One option that I found was Orgasmic Meditation. I learned about OM through a few friends who did it. I noticed they all glowed, and I wanted to find out how to have that glow for myself. So, I went to an OM event. All the guys there seemed so amazing. They made me want to interact with men again. So, I took an intro course.
The night after the class, I asked for my first OM. I remember the OM being very sensational, but at the same time very comforting. I liked knowing exactly what to expect. My partner asked me afterward if I wanted to OM again, and I said, “Yes.” But then, I changed my mind. It felt liberating to know I didn’t owe him anything — not even something I’d already expressed interest in.
Another powerful part of the OM was the “noticing” step, where my partner described my genitals in neutral language. I’d always felt self-conscious about my genitals. So, as I OMed more and more, having people look at and approve of that part of me, was like exposure therapy for me. I knew nobody could come out and say, “You have ugly genitals.” So, having them observe the features of my genitals with neutral language made being seen way less scary.
During OMs, I didn’t feel like I had to apologize for being a powerful woman. I was allowed to express all of my energy; I didn’t have to hold back. My partner committed to being there for the 15 minutes for the practice, so it wasn’t like I was going to scare them off.
Being unconditionally accepted during OMs made me more comfortable expressing myself in other areas of life. I learned to speak up for my desires so that I could get what I wanted, no matter who I was with.
OM took me from never trusting men to being able to do something so intimate with ones I'd just met. It also helped me meet an amazing man; we had a child together. OMing as a parent can be a challenge, but we make sure to fit it in whenever we can.
I want to raise my daughter to have the values OM has given me and my partner. I want her to love her body and have no shame and to think her body is awesome, no matter what it looks like. I know I’m not finished with my own journey to reach that level of self-acceptance. And sometimes it’s tempting to stop OMing when parenthood gets in the way. But I do it for myself, and I do it because I want to pass on the best of what’s possible to my daughter.