My hair has been a distinguishing feature of mine since I was a child. Hair stylists naturally gravitate to my tresses and touch my hair without asking. But these guys are almost always gay, and they’re more interested in my hair than me, so I never really minded them.
However, on too many occasions to recount, I have been standing or sitting, minding my own business, only to feel something strange happening to the back of my head and realize some stranger was groping and fondling my hair. From a guy at the mall when I was 12 — who wound my hair around and around his arm and said, “I’m sorry, I couldn’t help myself”, to which I replied, “Oh, yes, you could have!” — to a creepo, sleazy, fat guy with one tooth at the circus who operated one of the rides, men are drawn to my hair. An artist wanted to paint me nude because of my skin tone and my hair. Because of these experiences over the years, my hair is definitely one of my sensitive spots. These creepy follicular invaders somehow had the nerve to get offended that I was offended that they were touching and stroking my hair. They would guffaw and sneer, “What do you care? It’s just hair. It’s dead.”
Newsflash: As long as my hair is attached to my head, my hair is a part of my body and is off-limits to anyone unless I personally give permission for a person to touch my hair. Period.
People are taught that hair is dead. Sacred teachings say it is not. In the ancient culture of the tribes of Ireland, Scotland, Gaul, and other European pagan traditions, hair was very sacred. Most people never cut their hair; they let it grow their entire lives, for to cut your hair (nonchalantly) was to cut off your power. In some instances just before major battles, some warriors might cut their hair as a sign of sacrifice to the gods, for blessing in battle. They may also cut their hair while mourning.
The head was sacred to the indigenous tribes of pagan Europa. The head is where we think, see, hear, smell, taste, talk, sing, kiss — all of which are extremely important to every person. In fact, the head was so revered that warriors would take the heads of their enemies to prevent their power from transferring with the deceased to the Other Side. If you’ve ever seen a depiction of the great mother goddess Kali from the Sanatana Dharma teachings, you know the head is a prized possession in several cultures.
Samson, from the Judeo-Christian bible, owed his considerable strength to his hair. Some American Indian tribes have traditions that involve cutting their hair when a loved one has died. Keeping the hair long is part of many yogic traditions that go back thousands of years. The hair is thought to be like “antennae” to the surrounding environment, able to pick up on energetic vibrations, useful, informative sensations that are then transmitted to the brain. Even beards were required of scholars in academia and holy men in some religions.
So hair has always been a very conscious matter to me…. The Broadway musical included.
Note: I’ve never had a lucid dream, and the one dream in which I actively controlled what happened was a real doozy. Oftentimes my dreams are like films, and at an important moment, I’ll get an extreme close-up, zoom-in shot to hone in on what is important.
I had already had my dreams for the night, gotten up to go to the bathroom, and gone back to bed, only to lay in bed for over an hour unable to fall asleep. Sometime after that, I dozed off and had this dream.
I was looking into a mirror that was in my bedroom closet, brushing my hair with my hands. Suddenly a clump of hair came out into my hand. I was understandably upset. My hair is one of my signature features. More hair fell out. I went to my bathroom to look in the bigger mirror, and my hair around my ears and the back of my head was gone. Suddenly, a zoom-in, close-up showed my scalp, and the hair was cut close to the skin, but it was obvious that it had been cut, i.e., with clippers.
I was instantaneously back in my bedroom looking into the mirror in my closet, and I was completely bald. But I wasn’t upset. In fact, I ran my hand over my bald scalp and smiled.
When I woke up, I was confused and slightly worried. Losing hair so drastically is usually a sign of severe illness such as Diabetes or thyroid dysfunction, or worse, the effects of cancer treatment such as chemo and radiation. I have dealt with my hair thinning out due to my thyroid dysfunction, but I’ve been able to regrow my hair now that I have my thyroid and insulin response under control thanks to a superb product. And I would never do chemo or radiation if I had cancer, so I knew that this was not a precognitive dream, showing me a scene from my future (as I sometimes dream).
Having been immersed in the ballet world growing up, I know a ballerina in rebellion will cut her hair. Remember when Rosie O’Donnell got her famous haircut and the media crucified her? I’m not G.I. Jane or Sinead O’Connor. I wouldn’t look good bald. So I consulted the wonderful world of Google for some dream meanings to make sense of this dream that threatened to rock my body and cranial image.
Losing one’s hair in a dream spells gloom and doom according to some interpretations (particularly the religious interpretations). But my dreams are never as concrete as many of the standard interpretations anyway, and I quickly found several interpretations that resonated with me and my current situation.
Losing power was associated with losing hair throughout the various interpretations, but they also noted that the hair that has fallen out (or been cut off) represents something you no longer need. So losing a clump of hair could be a sign of getting rid of something that no longer serves you or an end to a stressful time of your life. They also mentioned that losing hair to the point of baldness could signify a whole new chapter in your life because when you get rid of all that doesn’t serve you, you are left with a blank canvas — a bald head, in this case — to start over. They note that being bald was seen as a sign of wisdom in some ancient cultures, as priests and sages would shave their heads to show they were on a path of knowledge and wisdom. The best explanation said, “You are at a stage in your life where you are confident in fully exposing yourself.” Hmmmmmmm…..
One important thing was whether the hair was falling out on its own or was cut off. My zoom-in, close-up, Mr. DeMille shot clearly showed that my hair had been shorn off with clippers. In effect, I was purposely getting rid of things that no longer served me. I was purposely on a path to greater knowledge and, hopefully, greater wisdom.
I can only go by what I felt when I woke up. And with this dream, though I was a little shaken at seeing myself bald, I did not have any bad feelings upon thinking about the dream. This was one reason I didn’t freak out … like I did after the time I dreamt of all my teeth falling out. Yikes!
This dream is accurate in my opinion. Since I’m still processing my Congressional run and getting my personal life and my self back on track for what I should be doing with my life, I can see how this is a good dream to have. My existence will be uncomfortable as I move forward and let go of the things (and people) that do not enrich my life or my work, but the path (to knowledge and wisdom) is most definitely a path I want to take.
This training focuses on awakening sensual response, increasing sexual pleasure, reclaiming your body as yours, honoring the sacred nature of the body as a means of enlightenment, and connecting to universal consciousness.
The 6 group classes will be held on Thursday nights at 9 p.m. ET (8 p.m. CT/ 6 p.m. PT) beginning July 24, 2014. If taking the group course by yourself, the cost is $99, and it’s only $149 for couples.
Private classes can be arranged at the convenience of the participant(s). Six sessions for a Single is $589.00, and Couples will be $879.00.
This workshop will incorporate the philosophy of Tantra along with anatomy and biology, the science of orgasm, exercises, journaling, homework in between classes, with plenty of time for Q&A during the classes.
This training is holistic in nature and covers other aspects of your well-being, such as emotional happiness, fitness, nutrition, physical health, and relationships. This workshop is part of a larger project that I am developing but can’t mention to the public at this time. But SOON!
More classes will be provided in the near future, but this introductory class is required for the intermediate and advanced levels. Sexual orientation does not matter. But you MUST BE 18 to participate.
You may sign up for the Group or Private classes either as a Single or as a Couple on the ArousedWoman website.
ALL SALES ARE FINAL. Any questions should be directed to me PRIOR to purchasing any option. Use the form below.
I look forward to helping you on your journey!
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Today is June 21, 2014, and it marks 18 years since I self-initiated as a witch. The ritual took place in my backyard with a number of fellow witch-friends in attendance, along with too many mosquitoes and June Bugs to count.
I had been on this road to witchdom for a couple of years, having searched for a spiritual tradition that was in keeping with my ancient Gaelic ancestors. I was even in a coven for a while, but their tradition was American eclectic and had way too much Wicca and ceremonial hogwash for my tastes. Unofficially, I had been on this path my whole life; it had only been a couple years prior to my self-initiation that I had begun to take on the mantle of witch and pagan.
As I related in my Samhain post, being a witch in reality is nothing like what TV and movies pretend it is. “Witch” is usually used as an insult, particularly against women. This past Samhain, I bought a sign that says, “You say I’m a Witch … like it’s a bad thing.” And for me, the word “witch” is utterly fabulous.
The word witch is thought to derive from a Germanic root word that alternately can mean “to be strong” and/or “to know” or “to be wise”. The term witch was used to refer to the local wise woman, the woman who knew the healing arts, midwivery, burial preparations, and often, relationship advice. Witches were the keepers of arcane knowledge from birth to death, and that scared the men in charge of Europe’s misogynistic religion and governments. Insecure men have always feared women’s ability to create life, and that fear was never greater than in the centuries of patriarchal rule before modern science could explain some of the mysteries of human biology.
I have often said that someday I hope to be able to call myself, fully, a witch — to truly be a wise woman. I’ve found that it takes much more than just calling yourself a witch to actually be a true witch. I’m not talking about covens and initiations either. You’re a person who strives to live in a wise way, a beauty way, the “Red Road”, according to the laws of Nature and Karma, or you don’t.
Many arguments can be made over who is a real witch and who isn’t. That’s another reason I left a coven and ventured out on my own. I just wanted to do what felt right to me and was in keeping with my Irish and Scottish heritage. Along the way, I’ve studied many religions, and I’m particularly smitten with the teachings of Indian religions as they pertain to enlightenment, reincarnation, and expansion of universal consciousness. While I will call myself an Energist, for reasons I’ll explain in another post, there is no actual name for what I do — it’s just Trish Witchyness.
Recently, an instructor from Pittsburgh University interviewed me for some doctoral work he is doing. He wanted to know about my spiritual path and how I do my “thang” as a solitary witch. We talked for several hours over the course of a few days, and it was a great conversation that brought back many memories along my journey.
I recounted a tale from when I was a child, about seven years old, when my mother wanted me to stop making mud pies in the backyard to get ready for church. I asked why we had to go to church. She said it was to worship god in his house. I asked her why we had to go to church to worship god because a church was made by men while the earth and water I was concocting into mud pies was actually made by god. Furious that I was questioning her religious bullshit, she growled for me to get inside and get cleaned up, and away to man’s building we went.
When I was nine, I was forced to become Catholic. I knew instinctively the church was evil. Maybe it was a past-life memory of being burned at the stake or something … or being an observant child, I could see through the hypocrisy and the double standards of the Catholic church when my mother, the recreational martyr, fell for all of it hook, line, and sinker. One day when I was 10, I asked one of the priests, “Which is worse: always to believe and never to question, or always to question and never to believe?” He sputtered, clearly unable to answer me, then a moment later began spewing some dogmatic drivel that I could tell even he knew was inadequate.
I hated the Catholic church, I hated my mother, I hated Catholic school, I despised it all. When I was 17, I graduated from Catholic school, and I vowed never to return to the church. I almost did not attend my best friend’s wedding because it was a wedding mass. So was my sister’s.
At age 17, my life changed when I met an American Indian ballet dancer at a major competition. His poetry about his spirit animal connected directly to the heart of me. But I’m not Indian. He suggested I begin searching for answers with my heritage, and so my journey into the incredible world of the Gaelic people and spirituality began. I knew I was home as I learned more and more about pre-Christian Ireland and Scotland. Even with the invasion of Christianity on the Gaelic peoples, many of the traditional stories and customs had survived. Considering how much of the pagan culture was absorbed and outright stolen by the Christian church, finding the links back to pre-Christian European spirituality is doable and documentable.
When I was 21, I volunteered with a ballet company in New Orleans. One day, I decided to go inside a huge cathedral — St. Patrick’s, I think it was. I went to one of the last pews and knelt. And waited. And waited. And waited. I looked around. Nothing. I bowed my head. Nothing. I looked at the shiny brass and gold trinkets, and the porcelain statues, and the stained glass, and the wooden reproduction of Jesus on the cross. And felt nothing. I began crying. Because I felt nothing. I left. Still crying. I wanted to belong somewhere, and this was never going to be it.
I didn’t have a name for what I was or what I believed at that time. About a year later, a theatre friend asked if I’d heard of Wicca. I hadn’t, but when I looked into it at the library and bookstore (this was pre-internet), I resonated with some of what I read, but not all of it. Some of Wicca seemed as regimented and hierarchical as the dogmatic church I despised. Turns out that Wicca was founded by two former Anglicans. And as another friend used to joke, “Episcopal is just Catholic with an ‘E’.”
It was that journey (and the dawn of the internet) that allowed me to find other soul-path querents who go by many names: Wicca, Witches, Pagans, Neo-Pagans, Druids, Eclectic, Ceremonial Witches, Asatru, etc. Too many to list. The coven didn’t work out, but it allowed me to see what I didn’t want on my path. I left in the Spring, and it was that Summer Solstice that I held my self-initiation in my backyard on June 21, 1996.
Walking the witchy path has not been easy, especially considering I live in Mississippi. Being “out of the broom closet” has been a challenge from Day 1. I have endured personal taunts and threats, rude comments left on my vehicle (thanks to my “Born Again Pagan” bumper sticker) whenever I went to the store, work, the post office, the gas station. I even lost a job because I wasn’t Christian. But like any other closet a person chooses to come out of, being free trumps being a slave to the ignorance of others, especially here in the Bible Belt.
I composed a musical, Witchcraze, to correlate the terrorizing good ol’ boys of the Bush regime with the torturous witch trial masterminds of 1692 Salem. Having studied in depth the arrest warrants, the trial transcripts, and the re-trial transcripts, I can say for a fact that nothing I have endured comes close to what was done to the women of previous centuries, when “witch” was a label that carried heinous torture and a death sentence.
So, I’m a witch. And I’m a pagan. And an Energist. And a tarot card reader. And a Libra. And a Tatrika and yogini. And a composer, and a nerd, and a bookworm, and a Democrat, and a Streisand devotee, and a single-mom, and a wannabe chef and cafe-owner, and a kettlebell enthusiast, and I’m right-handed. Pick any of those labels, and someone is going to have a problem with me because of how they perceive that word and what they think it stands for.
I am a writer: a lover of words and sounds and syllables. I know what “witch” means, and to me, witch is a beautiful word. Witch is a sacred word. Witch is a word women (and men) have died for, and it is a word I choose for my goal in this lifetime: to be a wise woman, to be a strong woman, to live a life of expansion and understanding. Most of all, hearing or seeing the word witch makes me feel something. I feel a connection to all the women (and men) who defied oligarchical, elitist oppression to live and die free as freethinkers and religious and political dissenters. And that makes my activist heart proud.
Aroused and witchy,
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I am a big fan of Pattabhi Jois’ Ashtanga Vinyasa yoga practice. I love the physicality of it — having danced in ballet and the theatre for almost 20 years (not counting ethnic and belly dancing), my body really responds to the physical demands of Ashtanga Vinyasa yoga. I recently got back into it…. and I’m so sore…. :-)
I make sure to distinguish between ashtanga, which means “eight limbs” and refers to the eight “steps” or “branches” of yoga: yama, niyama, asanas, pranayama, pratyahara, dharana, dhyana, and samadhi, and Jois’ yoga practice that he called Ashtanga Vinyasa.
As I have just begun my campaign for United States Congress, I am stepping up my personal activism to a whole new level of engagement. And so, I wanted to post Jois’ closing prayer that is sung at the end of every Ashtanga Vinyasa Yoga class:
Svasthi Praja Bhyaha Pari Pala Yantam
Nya Yena Margena Mahim Mahishaha
Go Brahmanebhyaha Shubamastu Nityam
Lokah Samastah Sukhino Bhavantu
Om Shanti Shanti Shantihi
Which translates to this:
“May the rulers of the earth keep to the path of virtue
For protecting the welfare of all generations.
May the religious, and all peoples be forever blessed.
May all beings everywhere be happy and free.
Om, peace, peace, perfect peace.”
A-women! (Okay, I added that bit right there.)
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On Twitter tonight, I had put out a general question to see what people wanted to talk about. As many are on the last leg of the holidays and the New Year, most are taking the time to focus on how to make 2014 better than last year, and more importantly, how to be better people in 2014.
One Tweep said he is trying to be more positive and be a man of his word, amongst other wonderful intentions. I replied, “Good for you! More people should focus on being positive. It improves attitude and lowers stress by creating happy hormones.”
Then he said, “I live by my new mantra… help others!”
I loved this! When you live a life of helping others, you inevitably help yourself. It’s not about ego or attention; it’s only about being a good human.
Then, in a moment of brilliant insight, he said, “I [u]sed to say to myself ‘I’ll show them’ now I say, ‘I’ll show them… the way.'”
This is a wonderful sentiment and so in tune with a healing path. “I’ll show them” is driven by ego and competition. This has been the foundation of this imperial, patriarchal society for 2,500 years. To “show them” means to attain our own sense of self-worth usually by trampling over others in the process of “winning”. To say, “I’ll show them the way” is a spark of self-realization that you can lead while allowing others to find their path for themselves. Recognize that not everyone is going to want to go on your path, and that’s okay. You can’t control them, just love them.
This is the basic philosophy behind Tantra, after all. There is no correct way or wrong way in Tantra. Tantra is an instrument of expansion for your own growth. Expand your own consciousness and be an example to others, and allow them to pursue their own instrument toward their own awareness of their own consciousness — their path, their way.
Be the change you wish to see in the world.
Sadly, many people judge my book by its Jessica Rabbit cover and move on…. sniff…. (that was a joke, people… seriously!)
Well, not any more! I posted the first of what I hope will become an almost weekly event — Trish’s Rant! A little time and space carved out of the universe for me to get my Irish on and tell the world how I see it. (This probably is not for the faint of heart.)
This week’s topic is “Trish’s Womanifesto – A Treatise on Being an ArousedWoman.”
Listen to the replay, then lemme know what you think by leaving a comment at the end of this blog post.
I AM DIVORCED!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
I AM FREEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!!!!
I got the text message from my lawyer a little while ago that the judge signed off on the papers this morning.
I breathed a sigh of relief that I have been holding in for over 15 years.
I never wanted to be legally married. EVER. Seeing my parents crap marriage and knowing I wanted a career in the arts (which meant traveling and nude love scenes), I never ever wanted to be shackled to one man.
When I had my daughter, we decided to get married so he could claim me as a dependent (since I was only a stay-at-home-mother and didn’t actually contribute anything except working 24/7 as a mom). Once legally married, I could then get medical and dental insurance, which I had not had for a few years. And there was the added bonus of a bigger tax return as well as cheaper car insurance…. Yes…. Exactly ALL the reasons two people would want to legally bound (and gagged) together.
Standing in front of the justice of the peace, I felt my soul deflate as I had to say vows I never wanted to utter. Getting legally married was truly a soul-crushing moment for me… that lasted until THIS morning when I was granted my FREEDOM! YEEHAW!
The divorce process only solidified for me what marriage is all about. Money. Money and property. Anyone who says marriage is NOT about money and property has never been divorced. Trust me. Don’t get married in the first place. Do a Power of Attorney so you can sign off on life-saving medical procedures, but please, I beg everyone, do NOT get married. EVER. It sucks. No. I’m not biased. This is just the truth. Seriously. Marriage is evil. Stay away!!!
Or do what you want…
Doing the numbers on today’s date — 06-06-2013, they reduce to 9, which is the Hermit (or Shaman) card in the Major Arcana of the Tarot. (Yes, I do numerology. Don’t judge me.) I had thought it would be a number like 21 – The Universe, or something more appropriate like 13 – Death. :-) However, 9 – The Hermit or Shaman, is interesting. Even though I’ve been in a state of chrysalis for several years, especially since becoming a single mom 2.5 years ago, now I am truly free to search within and plan the next phase of my life.
Do I still want a relationship? Of course. And I can certainly see myself becoming handfasted again. But legally married? Never. The cheaper car insurance wasn’t worth it.
I shall revel in this moment and all subsequent moments of my life for I AM FREEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!!!! I am a 40 year-old woman with years of pent up sexual energy who’s ready to pounce.
Now…. if only I could find a straight man with whom to get my Cougar on! :-P
(YAY!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I’M FREEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!!!!)
Wrong. I have ONE cause — Human Rights. All other rights issues stem from this central trunk of the rights and issues’ family tree. Women’s rights, LGBT, genital integrity, workers’ rights, children’s rights, and more — ALL are branches of the primary concept that roots us in our basic right to self-determination, autonomy, and our humanity.
Today provided a perfect example of how different experiences color our activism. Usually, this is a good thing, but occasionally, our pain from our own experiences clouds our words, resulting in our message devolving into a war of emotion. It becomes a contest of “my pain is greater than your pain” — a competition no one wins.
My morning started with me checking my Facebook and Twitter while I made breakfast as I hurried my daughter to get up, get ready for school, and catch the bus.
I try not to spend all day on Twitter, but tomorrow’s Full Moon seems to have kicked up people’s crazy cycles a day early.
First, on Facebook, I responded to a friend’s comment about his neighbors’ loud sex last night. As the conversation progressed to sex positions (okay, I brought it up), I mentioned that the reason the original missionary position is the only position ever condoned by the Catholic church was because it provides the least pleasure for the woman. It puts the man in the superior, stronger, aggressive position while the woman is inferior, at the mercy of the man, and passive and submissive. Another chick chimed in saying some women “love to be ‘conquered.'” As a woman who has spent most of my life fighting NOT to be conquered by men, I disagreed, but I did not linger since I had to get some real work done.
I spent a couple hours working my day-job (Thursdays are a day-off for me), and what followed was an entire day on social media in one activist role or another. And I have preserved some of those exchanges in the photo gallery below. (To view them at full size, click the box on the lower right of your screen.)
The second round of today’s activism started out simple enough — me talking about orgasms, specifically, mine, and how I cry when I orgasm. I followed that with a comment that men crying during orgasm is perfectly natural. Twitter being a public forum, a random guy jumped in the convo with a rude comment ridiculing how it would look with a “he man blowing his load and crying.” This began a series of tweets back and forth as I tried to explain that a man crying during orgasm is perfectly natural. After all, men are human beings, and human beings have feelings.
Apparently, men are still not allowed to be full human beings in our society.
The third and most exasperating exchange occurred with a man who, it turns out, is also an activist — an intactivist, to be precise. An intactivist is someone who fights for ending all circumcision — on males and females — because genital mutilation is a human rights violation of a child’s bodily autonomy and is sexual assault on the child. This guy had tweeted the following comment:
“The sexual urges of women in our society are more important than the pain of a baby boy.”
After a morning of hearing that some women want to be conquered, men who cry are not masculine, and a few other ridiculous notions that are proof positive our society is still sexually repressed and almost entirely mentally unbalanced, I could not sit by and let this tweet go without standing up for women’s right to be sexual and not be shamed for it. Did I do it the right way? Could I have handled myself better? Should I have called him a moron so many times? Maybe. Maybe not.
The thought I had toward the end of this Twitter war (that lasted over a couple hours) is that this guy is reacting and projecting because of his own pain with his circumcision. Just as I possibly was too harsh in earlier altercations today.
Hearing a woman wants to be conquered made me think back to when I was molested as a kid, my rape when I was 21, and my Steubenville-esque experience. Talking about the horribly unsatisfactory missionary position brought to mind my own status as one of the 70% of women who has never orgasmed during sex — a statistic for which I still feel shame for myself and anger at my partners for not caring enough about me to ensure I had pleasure, too. It reignited my distaste for the porn industry that created a caricature of women as hyper-orgasmic nymphomaniac slut-bunnies — as opposed to erotica that presents sex and sexuality in a beautiful, honorable way.
I was reminded yet again of the hundreds of thousands — if not millions — of women who have been raped, tortured, killed outright, and burned at the stake by the Christian church who has feared women’s sexual power since Peter stole the church’s high seat from Mary Magdalene. As a pagan witch doing research for my stage writings, I spent years reading witch trial transcripts, scouring historical documents of witch hunters, Inquisitors, and missionaries in Europe and in colonial America who were obsessed with exorcising the natural sexuality of women. This does not include the women who were beaten, raped, and killed for wanting the right to vote, or the right to fight alongside men in the modern military. Too many thoughts and memories swarmed in my mind.
Hearing that a man can’t cry when he experiences pleasure infuriated me because so much of our patriarchal, imperial, testosterone-driven culture still carries the gender-role prejudices of religion and hierarchical misogyny and misandry that does a disservice to women and men.
Today’s activism was about shame. And pain. And how, even when we mean well, speaking up for one issue cannot happen at the expense of demeaning other people who are probably also in pain. After all, the oppressive culture that says mutilating a child’s genitals is okay is the same repressive culture that says a woman is to blame for her rape because of how she was dressed, or two people cannot love each other because they’re the same gender.
I’ve been a grassroots activist for 27 years, and I’ve seen in-fighting in every single rights group I’ve ever worked with — religious rights, American Indian rights, LGBT rights, women’s rights. Who’s a real witch? Who’s a real Indian? Bisexuals aren’t really discriminated against. Women don’t need full body autonomy or equal pay. Conservative Democrats aren’t real Democrats. And it’s all bullshit.
My motto has always been, “Human Rights are non-negotiable.”
I love that there are so many of us, each working in a niche that is important to us. Yet, that does not mean one corner of activism outweighs another. We can’t all work for all causes at all times. We have to split up into different groups to cover all the bases. Remember that equality does not mean we are the same, but rather, though we may be different, we are of the same value as human beings. Our human rights family tree is rooted in and celebrates our differences, with roots deep in the soil of our humanity, echoing the ancient axiom, “As above, so below.”
However, if you only care about one group who is hurt or exploited and not another, then you’re not working for rights issues, you’re a special interest asshat who is no better than the elitist oppressors who mock human rights activism while making fortunes off the masses’ suffering.
So I may not know the full extent of pain that another person has experienced, just as they won’t know the full extent of mine. But we can try to listen better. We can forgo the pain-game and stick to the work at hand. Don’t allow the oppressors’ need to stuff us into boxes and categories or divide us into opposing sides hinder our work of coming together and doing the work.
We are better than that. Do the work. Be the Change.
We Are All Connected.
- NEWS: Zero Tolerance to Female Genital Mutilation
- OpEd: ‘Male Circumcision Is No Biggie’
- Anatomy: #TeamUncut Intact Natural Penis Collage for #ForeskinFriday (21+ NSFW)
- OpEd: The Face of Orgasm: Is Your Woman Faking Orgasms or Not?
- DailyOJ 01-26-13, Part 2: The Fear of Intimacy
- OpEd: America’s Love/Hate Relationship with Breasts
© 2013 by Trish Causey. All Rights Reserved.
“First I was afraid, I was petrified”…. Gloria Gaynor sings in my ear as I think over the past few days since I wrote the first post of this blog, “A Life Lived in Fear Is a Life Half-Lived.”
I knew I’d lose some followers and “friends,” and I have, but I have gained more — both in number and in reassurance, acceptance, and a similar experience of relating that has happened often on my “secret blog” for the past year. When I post my very personal articles on my own journey, people tell me how grateful they are that someone has expressed what they themselves have gone through, felt, or been confused by. They tell me on Twitter or leave a comment on my blog. I am always grateful that someone took the time to share their feelings with me in their comments.
Sharing my journey of (still) overcoming sexual abuse, a miserable marriage, and speaking out on women’s sexual health rights and issues, I was scared of losing people I care about — especially theatre people — whom I have loved for years. I should have known better. :-) Theatre people are the AMAZINGEST people in the world. We understand and appreciate differences. We understand hardship and rejection better than most.
THANK YOU, my wonderful THEATRE FAMILY! :-) And to those of you who have followed my AW Blog and been so supportive, I THANK YOU as well! MWAH xoxo
That was random I know, but you share so much about your life and experiences that I wondered how you were doing in the areas that you don’t speak about. You have every right to say nothing. I just enjoy getting a better understanding of the woman behind the blog.
What do you like to do in your spare time, when you’re not being a sex guru or a mom? What do you hope to achieve in the next year, 5 years or 10 years? What is something that no matter how upset or angry you are always manages to make you smile or at least smirk? If knowledge is power, when it comes to the content of your Aroused Woman blog, how powerful do you feel?
All hail Queen Vagina!
You’re sweet! :-) A few posts back, I announced that I was branching out with ArousedWoman(TM), re-focusing on “Awakening Sexuality Through Mind, Body, & Spirit.” So I’ll be posting lots of new topics and crazy wack-a-doo posts that I feel are relevant to my growth and that I hope are interesting to my readers.
As you can see from my “random post” on astral travel, that experience had a profound effect on me — not just my perception of what’s on the Other Side, but experiencing what actually is and is NOT on the Other Side confirmed for me many “beliefs” in regard to humanity, religion, society, etc. My beliefs-turned-knowledge affect me sexually (i.e., there’s no hell and certainly no “sin” as classified by controlling religious dogma), the experience of pure love (I know what I’m looking for when it comes to love, I won’t settle for anything less, and love has to be felt — it can’t be intellectualized or rationalized, i.e., If I love him enough, he’ll change, so I’ll love him really hard and work to change him into the person I want him to be.), and other concepts I’m still integrating even after the 9 or 10 years since the experience.
Which brings me to my “spare time”… Just yesterday, in fact, my daughter asked me, “Just what do you do during the day?” And I had to tell her the truth. Not much. I’m a Libra, a mind-candy person. I’m a creator. It’s difficult for me to actually finish anything because once it’s complete, it’s over — I can’t mind-candy it anymore. But my creative works have to be completed if I’m gonna earn a paycheck and feed my child.
I spend most of my time reading, learning, experimenting, walking, cooking, cleaning, washing dishes, meditating, pondering, writing, tweeting, doing laundry, working, walking, composing music, looking at the trees, studying leaves, watching squirrels and birds interact, more reading, more research, more questing, listening to the wind, being witchy, brewing concoctions, making cool witchy stuff, doing web design for new clients, creating different workshops, textile design, writing, writing, writing, tweeting…
I don’t have “spare time” in that I do what I love for a living (theatre), and I’m currently working on 2 new training certifications, after which, I’ll go for 2 more. (I’m already certified in yoga and Pilates.) Because I do what I love, I don’t earn a lot of money — I live simply and have found that to be rather wonderful. I go to bed every night thoroughly happy with my life. I wish there were more time in the day, but I know I used the time I had to enrich my life, provide for my daughter, and enjoy being in this meat-suit while being amazed at the beauty that is around me.
It can be surreal sometimes. I’ve had people say, “Wow, you lucked out writing for a living.” No, I was in the performing arts for 36 years, I’m an award-winning composer, I hosted a radio show that had 27,000 listeners worldwide (that I put on hold to start ArousedWoman and fight the idiocy of the GOP during the 2012 POTUS election), and I have something to say. I created my “luck” by working my ass off and paying my “dues.” I earned my right to write for a living.
Currently, I’m creating an online course on Musical Theatre training topics, I’m starting a new project (a magazine), and I will get back to my theatre radio show soon. I’m also going to teach some health workshops in my local area to help supplement my income. I’m also working on the ArousedWoman cookbook, and I’m creating my orgasm training method (which will be in beta testing soon for anyone who wants to contact me to participate in it).
I’m still trying to get the AW Forum going and still raising money for ArousedWoman Radio, to interview guests and answer people’s question in real time. But that is slow-going. It will happen in its own time, I guess.
Most of my time is spent on personal growth, getting healthy, and growing my experiences sexually, sensually, tantrically. I want to be a complete human, not a shell of a human in the rat race of society, as so many people are. I want to help others get out of that kind of life — to help them make a better life for themselves, get healthier, find some kind of peace in this crazy world — to see that happiness in self and happiness in life are connected. I want to help people overcome their PTSD with sexual trauma. I want to help others see beyond the hypocrisy of religion, politics, and government — that all that bullshit doesn’t really matter — and if it does matter to you, then don’t just complain, actually get off your ass and do something about it.
I want to help people get off the lie that is the insensitive Western medical system which is being undermined by the pharmacological industry. I want to inspire others to get back to the “beauty way,” back to Mother Earth because the livestock and dairy industries are killing our planet and our bodies. We are not separate from the earth — the earth isn’t just the thing under the sidewalks and asphalt — the earth is our food, our air, our water, our home, our reason for incarnating to this physical plane. If the living biosphere of the earth weren’t so important to us, we would have incarnated on Mars or somewhere else. Duh.
I want people to take back their power to heal themselves without fear of criminalization from the oppressive forces in control of our society.
I want women to take back our rightful place as healers, warriors, judges, peacemakers — as we were before patriarchal misogyny made women property, whores, and household slaves.
Where do I want to be in 5 years? Hopefully, I will have finished my Bachelor’s degree in Transpersonal Psychology from Sofia University and will be nearly finished with my Master’s in Women’s Spirituality. After that, I may take 2 years to study Sanskrit at St. John’s University in Arizona. And of course, 6 years from now, I hope to have completed my work to be an official teacher of Tantra. Essentially, I want to be able to keep a roof over my head while helping others.
I used to think this life was too long. In the past century, we have tripled our life expectancy. Why? Wasn’t 35 years of war, struggle, famine, disease, and natural disasters enough? Now, we have to endure this for 72, or 85, or 105 years?! Now, I see that even that long is not enough. This is a great time to be in a meat-suit on the physical plane. It is a truly wondrous time of change, and we’re a part of it. The past century — this past year! — has seen the rise of women and the awareness of human rights that is 2,000 years overdue.
I just want to do my part to “Be the change.” In my own particular brand of “random,” witchy, artistic, holistic, bohemian, awakening, loudmouth IrishLava. :-) But understand, we really can’t change other people; we can only change ourselves and be the example of change we hope to inspire in others.
Copyright 2013 by Trish Causey. All Rights Reserved.
Some schools of thought say all dreams are a form of astral projection. If so, then I’m astral traveling 3 to 5 times every night. But what I consider astral projection — traveling across time/space to the Other Side — has only occurred once — that I remember.
I astral projected in a dream years ago, in 2002, or 2003, maybe 2004 — before Hurricane Katrina. This was either the only time I’ve ever experienced this or the only time I remember it this fully.
I was flying in my dream, which was great because I had not had a flying dream since I was a young teenager. As a kid, I’d have dreams in which I would float up out of my body (in the dream) and hang out at the ceiling, sometimes getting bored with whatever was going on in the room, like a classroom or sometimes a hospital/surgical type area, and I’d float out of the room, ducking to not hit my head on the door jamb, then fly/float down the hallway to something more interesting.
In most flying dreams, though, I would be outside where I could get a running start, spread my arms, take off, and fly — but never higher than just above the trees. These were always amazing. I progressed to the point where I didn’t have to take a running start — if I had the thought I wanted to fly, I spread my arms, bent my knees in a small plie’, and I was up in the air, soaring. The most interesting of these was one dream in which I was flying with Elton John. I have no idea why I dreamt that. I love Elton John, but to this day, that is a mystery. :-)
So back to this particular dream… I was enthralled to be flying again, something I had missed for almost two decades. I was flying above the trees. I looked down as the canopy of treetops whizzed by. Suddenly, I realized I was not flying horizontally but vertically, like a helicopter going up instead of across. I thought, “How cool!”
I went up and up, still facing down, looking down towards the land. Further up and away from the trees. I went through the thin, low-lying clouds, higher and higher. Here’s where I started getting worried. I had no clue what was happening. Up and up. Still looking down, I saw I was high enough that I wasn’t just looking at the land or the water, I was now moving up through the clouds. Layers and layers of frothy white clouds. Then I was looking down at the clouds — up and up — looking down now at the entire earth, moving further from it at an increasing speed.
As the earth got smaller, I looked down toward what should have been my body but there was nothing there. I looked to my right at what should have been my arm, but my arm wasn’t there. I looked to my left, but my left arm wasn’t there. I thought, “Where’s my body?!” I looked around at myself, but I wasn’t there — only a fuzz of transparent light.
I felt my fuzz self cross a barrier, and I realized I had crossed the Veil (as pagans say). I was on the Other Side. I slowed down and took it all in, just floating. I had no body because I pure energy. Where I was was pure energy. It looked like an infinity of clouds in a golden light emanating from a huge golden light source off in the distance. In that instant I experienced what I’d never felt before or since — pure love. I knew it seemed crazy even at the time — this is what people who have near-death experiences say. They felt pure love. But it was true. I felt pure love. Pure connectedness to the supraconsciousness. I felt the infinity of the universe. I knew I was returning home — returning as light energy to rejoin the All light energy. No gods. No Jesus. No floating Buddha head. No made up human religious bullshit. The All was nameless, faceless, race-less, label-less energy.
Feeling that pure love was transformative. I knew what that pure love was as soon as I felt it and knew, with sadness, no one had ever extended that pure, unconditional love to me here on earth. I floated in the energy and felt my fuzzy light self being gently pulled toward the golden infinite energy All, and I loved it. I wanted it. Nothing had ever felt so wonderful, so intensely right — to be a part of that energy from whence I came, to leave the crap and the struggle of life on the physical plane. Everything I had ever wanted was right there. All I had to do was drift in the pure love energy stream to rejoin the infinite Source Energy.
I suddenly remembered my young daughter, and I thought, “Oh well, this was nice, but I have to go back now.” I expected to drift back to the Veil and begin my descent toward earth. However, I kept drifting toward the golden light. I thought, “No, really, I can’t stay. I have to get back to my daughter.” Nothing changed, in fact, I started moving toward the golden energy faster. I shouted (as only a fuzz ball of energy can), “NO! I have to go back to my daughter! She needs me!!” I tried to resist the pull of the energy — it was so immensely strong, and truthfully, I really wanted to stay in that perfect love vibration. But I tried pushing against the pull — hard to do with no arms or legs. I pushed against it, tried to pull myself away, pushed and pulled, tried again and again. I yelled, “I HAVE to go back! My daughter needs me!!”
At that instant, I began plummeting downward, downward, downward, accelerating exponentially. I saw the earth getting closer and closer. I went through the earth’s cloud layers, and I went faster. I worried how I was going to catch myself since I didn’t have a physical body. Was I just going to land on the roof of my house — SPLAT?! The earth got closer, then North America, then the Gulf Coast, the water, the trees — boom!
I bolted upright in bed. I was panting, breathless as if I’d just run a marathon. I looked down. I had a body — had arms and legs — nothing seemed broken. I looked up — the ceiling was intact. I felt like I had slammed into a concrete wall. I had crash-landed into my bed. I had no idea what just happened. I sat there for a few minutes, thoroughly confused by this, the weirdest dream I’d ever had.
I got up out of bed, shaky on my feet (that I was glad to see had returned), and I checked on my daughter. She was sound asleep. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary with the house. I could not wrap my head around what had happened. Of course, I had heard of out-of-body experiences (OOBE, or OBE), but I had never really delved into the topic, or astral travel, or remote viewing. I liked my easy-going nature-based Irish pagan path. I liked my relationship with my perception of a Source Energy, and I left all the New Age woo-woo stuff for the confused woo-woo people (who probably smoked a lot of weed).
Because of this dream/astral dream experience, my perception of “god/gods,” heaven/nirvana, et al were confirmed for what feels right for me. Science says energy is the basis of the universe, and I saw that that is true. Spiritual sages say “we are all connected,” and I felt that to be true in my experience. The bullshit importance humans place on ethnicity, economic class, political party, religious affiliation are all that — bullshit — completely made up, human busy-work to keep the physical plane mired down in drama so the soul energy has something to do while it’s here to learn lessons during its incarnation in the carbon-based meat-suit.
At that moment, I became what I call an Energist. I believe in Energy. Gods, goddesses, etc., are anthropomorphized interpretations of particular energy vibrations to appease the inquisitive human-animal’s mind as the soul sorts out its karma this go ’round.
This is when I became a Humanist. We are all energy. We are all equal. We are all connected, regardless of skin color, spiritual path, or other divisive pigeon hole man-made society wants us to buy into to keep strife and war in perpetual motion, usually for the benefit of sociopathic lizard-brains who feed on misery to secure their own financial gain and to ensure their elite status and control.
This earthly existence offers glimpses into the love and connectedness that exist on the Other Side. They are possible here… if we lose our temporary selves long enough to find our true selves.
This is my experience. You don’t have to like it, agree with it, or believe it. It is mine. This is the experience as it happened to me, so I don’t feel the need to justify or rationalize any aspect of it. This was a truly integral and life-changing experience for me, and to this day, it greatly influences many of my tenets that I hold to be true for me and my path.
I hope to return to the All Source Energy again this lifetime to say Hi — as long as I can come back here once I’m done hanging out in the energy love fuzz.
Copyright 2013 by Trish Causey. All Rights Reserved.
Those of you who have followed my orgasm journal have read about my path to becoming a multi-orgasmic and spontaneously orgasmic woman. I’ve experienced all sorts of -gasms from multiple orgasms, heart-gasms, leg-gasms, nipple-gasms, urination-gasms, labia-gasms — you name it, my body has -gasmed there.
I embarked on this journey as a means of healing from sexual abuse as a child, rape as an adult, and a miserable marriage. I just wanted to be able to feel sensation in my clit again after doing damage from vibrators — and to be able to orgasm during sex, a seemingly impossible feat I never accomplished with a partner. Since starting this path via research, trial and error, and a few different “methods,” I have experienced orgasms, emotions, and awakenings physically and emotionally that I never dreamed were possible. Along the way, I’ve made mistakes and had revelations, and it has all been one big learning experience.
I had begun a practice about a year ago that is essentially breathing, sound, and touch — supposedly, a protocol “discovered” by accident. I now feel that this is inaccurate, since combining breathing, sound, and touch is an ancient practice to awaken the subtle body, to trigger the energy fields of the meridians, and to rewire the parasympathetic nervous system.
After all, orgasm is both a physical event and an energy event. Different systems are activated to bring about each kind of orgasm.
In documenting my journey, I was able to go back and see what I did, when, the circumstances of my emotions at the time, any physical factors, as well as my experiences with the protocol itself, and how it affected me. (THIS is why journaling is so important — not necessarily at the time of the experience, but it can be very important later.) Looking back, I noticed that I did everything exactly opposite of what was given in the “protocol,” and when I tried to do it correctly, I hurt my voice or didn’t experience as much as when I did it “wrong.” Mostly, though, when doing it “wrong,” I experienced huge leaps forward in my orgasmic journey, and I knew that I was doing a practice that was centuries old, a Tantric type of breathing meditation with sound that awakens the body, the mind, and even the spirit/consciousness self.
Incorporating sensual massage and my solo version of the OM clit technique took my orgasmic experiences to a new level. Learning to love my breasts and starting to accept my body as she is has been healing in many ways, not the least of which has been the change in how I make love to myself.
Over the past year, as I began to sink a little too deep into Yin energy personally while expending inordinate amounts of Yang energy during the push to the 2012 POTUS election (combating GOP repressive crap), I experienced the sexual downward cycles that follow every sexual upsurge high. I no longer craved manually stimulated orgasms or solo sex sessions. I could do barely-there nipple stim or gentle clit and labia stim and have those orgasms and be perfectly happy. I began to fear I was losing my sex drive. Now, as I am again experiencing changes in my orgasms (that I will write up soon), I have left that other protocol behind and have begun firmly on a Tantric path.
I have started working with a Tantric teacher in Miami, and I am so very happy to be on this path. The program takes a minimum of six years to complete, so it is definitely a commitment. At this time, it feels right, and I hope to be able to complete it. I can’t wait to see what I experience in six months, a year, five years from now by working with a real Tantric. I know that sounds like forever to some of you, but in the past couple of years I’ve learned that it takes time to process and integrate the new awakenings of the subtle body with the physical body and the emotional and psychological aspects of our selves.
Tantra is a beautiful journey of awareness, transformation, and expansiveness, not the sex orgy touted by “gurus” and media for tabloid fodder… though sex is certainly improved by Tantra consciousness being present.
As Georg Feuerstein says in Tantra, The Path of Ecstasy:
“It is no accident that true Tantric practitioners are called “heroes” (vira), because they must navigate in treacherous waters that demand constant vigilance and great inner strength…. There are no shortcuts, and the quest for quick fixes and weekend enlightement is merely one of the symptoms of the kali-yuga, governed by delusion and greed.”
I think I will be blogging my experiences here, so stay tuned.
I’ve been married for almost 15 years. Before I got married, I used to have orgasms without a problem during intercourse, and I was very active and sexual woman. Now, AFTER 15 years, we have sex like every three or four months and worse, without orgasms… well, once a year if I’m really lucky. I only get an orgasm while watching porn and masturbating myself — so, I’m not anorgasmic — but it doesn’t happen while having sex with him. Even when I’m aroused and really try to have an orgasm mental and physically, it just doesn’t happen. I talked to him, but it’s not enough.
I LOOOVEEEE sex, I like sex, and even for a while I resigned myself to abstinence. Well, I suppose that I am the problem, but I cannot find the solution. I want to enjoy sex, and literally shout out myself for pleasure and orgasm during intercourse but well… here I am asking for help. Love my husband and I wish I could surrender myself into his arms and enjoy and cry out for pleasure. Any thoughts?
Right off the bat, I see at least three major things that need to be addressed, and hear me when I say, YOU are NOT the sole issue that needs help here. It takes two to tango, and in a relationship, each partner is 100% responsible for participating in their 50% of the partnership.
The word relationship does not mean “suffer in silence,” as you seem to be doing — I know that’s how I felt in my miserable 15-year marriage with orgasmless sex. (At least you like your guy!) A relationship is supposed to be two (or more) people actively relating to each other. I don’t see much relating at all here. But let’s begin this conversation with you…
You didn’t tell me your age, so for round numbers, let’s say you’re 40 years old and got married at 25. In your early 20’s then, you were a vibrant, happy, sexual, naturally orgasmic woman. Fast forward 15 years, you’re experiencing issues with orgasm with a husband who is uninterested in “fixing” a relationship he apparently doesn’t view as being problematic.
From a physical standpoint, the body completely regenerates every cell in the body within about three years. So you are literally not the same person you were then — your body has completely re-created itself 5 times since then. Now, at “40,” your hormone levels are different, your blood chemistry is different, and this isn’t even considering if you take prescription medication on a regular basis that can upset your body’s chemical balance, or have unhealthy nutrition habits, too much alcohol or caffeine intake, etc.
My first recommendation to you is to get your bloodwork done and see what your hormone levels are — do you make enough testosterone? Testosterone is required for women’s sexuality, believe it or not. When we’re younger, we have plenty of it (without seeming masculine), but as we get older, women’s testosterone levels drop significantly. This can be made worse if you have been taking products that give you extra estrogen, such as birth control, or eating unfermented soy products like soy milk, soy yogurt, or ingesting too many foods made with soy. Also get your thyroid levels checked as the thyroid regulates hormone production in the body.
The second area I would address if I were you is the porn. Don’t get me wrong, I love to watch beautiful, sensual erotica myself, but as with any item we start to “rely” on for orgasm, porn may now be a “crutch” for you. I gave up vibrators when I could no longer have an orgasm without them — I literally had no feeling in my clit or labia, and I wasn’t even using a vibrator that often. It took six months to be able to feel any sensation in my clit. You may have gotten to the point where you’ve unconsciously talked yourself into reaching climax “only” when watching porn, so the orgasm is less about your sexual happiness and connection to your self and more about a psychosomatic reflex — “muscle memory” triggered by watching porn, if you will.
Go porn-less for a few months and get back in touch with your body. Your body was naturally orgasmic. Allow the muscles and nerves and your autonomic nervous system to re-learn what came so easily back then — awaken that “muscle” memory! This will take time and will likely be very frustrating. I invite you to read through my DailyOJ if you want a friend-in-frustration because I certainly understand. I would recommend my “Allowing and Receiving post” any time you really feel the pull to give up the bodywork and go back to the porn. Again, I’m not saying you should never watch erotica again, just take a break for a little while. Or watch some erotica or scroll through my Tumblr to get the juices flowing, then turn it off when you start masturbating. Relax into your body, focusing on your body’s wants and needs, not what you think your body “should” want or how it “should” act/react. Read my post on “Lying Broken in Pieces As I Heal” to see this process from a different perspective.
The third issue here is the infrequency of the sexual relationship with your husband. I am wondering, “What’s wrong with him that he doesn’t want to make love to a woman just starting her sexual prime? What’s going on in his work? His life outside the relationship — with him as a man? What stresses does he experience with his job, deadlines, co-workers? Does he have any addictions (food, caffeine, alcohol, other) that could be affecting him? Does he have health issues that are affecting his emotions, blood circulation, sexual drive, and even his mental/psychological state? Does he experience erectile dysfunction? Is he not making enough testosterone at this point in his life?” Yes, men make less testosterone as they get older as well.
As a man in his 40’s, let’s say, he may have been brought up in the last generation of boys who were taught to solve problems for themselves, don’t ask for help — that’s a sign of “weakness,” men have to have all the answers, be the leaders. Men are still suffering from the strong-silent-type John Wayne persona they were forced to emulate all the while being fed the Renaissance Man/Prince stereotype who is supposed to sweep a woman off her feet, romance her endlessly, and the relationship bliss and passion just happen all the time by magic — as women have been brainwashed into believing thanks to “princess” animated movies, romance novels, and daytime soaps.
Orgasms can seem easy enough if you find the right sex position. But the want has to really be there as well as a healthy mind and a healthy body. It doesn’t sound to me like he wants to bridge the divide here. Sex 4 times a year is not a true relating-ship, in my opinion, especially since you have tried to talk with him and he has not been receptive to communication. There are deeper issues going on with him that he may not feel comfortable sharing… yet.
Getting back to you, though, I hope you’re not expecting him to “give” you orgasms or “make” you cum. You are 100% responsible for your own orgasms during sex — or even solo. I see you understand that orgasm is a mental process first for a woman. After all the disappointment you’ve faced with this, your mental outlook may verge on the pessimistic side. You have work to do, for sure, and you need to work on yourself and your self first.
Okay… I lied… there’s a fourth thing I want you to consider…
In this post on orgasms, I explain there are different types of orgasms: the physical reflex and the energetic response. You can frig off for hours and never orgasm, much less climax. Or you can rewire the body to the point where you just think the word “orgasm,” and you’re off into the La-La Land of Bliss. Get back to your body, and rewire from the parasympathetic nervous system outward. And remember, I’m working on an orgasm training method that teaches this very thing, so be sure to sign up for my newsletter.
I know, I know… Other peolpe are going to suggest you do all the work here — add the “romance” back in, wear some lingerie, light candles, cook him a nice dinner, give him a massage to loosen him up to get him in the mood. This is all superficial bullshit. Your relationship needs true communication re-building, and that begins with honest dialogue, not pretending the problems away.
To begin this journey of healing, begin with yourself. To heal the relationship, you MUST sit him down, either just the two of you or with a counselor. You cannot save the sex or the relationship by yourself.
I most heartfully wish you well in this. And for more in-depth personalized advice, I also do consults via phone or Skype.
If you read my post from the other day, you know ArousedWoman is now 1 year old — and what a year it has been! I did not set out to create what ArousedWoman has become — I just followed my heart to continue my activism for myself personally and “to stir to action” and “awaken” others to the need for activism for women’s rights and other issues collectively. And poof! ArousedWoman is now arousing readers around the world.
As I review everything that’s gone on in 2012, I am re-focusing ArousedWoman for 2013 and beyond. My activism is definitely still here (sorry, men :-)), but I want to hone in on specifics to awaken people to healthy sexuality and a sex-positive outlook. Sex is not about control, or pain, or staying quiet to keep the peace in a relationship. Our sexual happiness is fundamental to our happiness as human beings, and I don’t think true happiness is possible if we’re playing manipulative games within our sexual relationships.
If you’ve read much of my blog, then you’ll know that I approach sexuality from a Tantric perspective, with leanings toward Kundalini and other ancient wisdom. With so many people trying to find their sexual identity in our 21st century soulless culture, a link to the past is a good grounding for wading through the murky flotsam and getsam of shame, fear, and guilt pervading our Puritanical society.
I think the human body is beautiful. Sex is beautiful. Orgasms are beautiful — and natural — and healthy. With that as my foundation, I am re-focusing ArousedWoman to “Awakening Sexuality in Mind, Body, and Spirit.”
Not just a sex blog, I want to help people on a myriad of levels. Sexual health begins in the mind, but vitality of the body and spirit are just as crucial to being happy sexually, and in turn, happy in your everyday life. And my dear atheist readers, don’t get scared by the word “spirit”! Spirit has nothing to do with religion (religion is an evil pyramid scheme for an elite core of men to gain and maintain their power and wealth). I may throw some good ol’ pagan sex rite stuff in here occasionally, but trust me, religion is NOT on the menu here!
Orgasm is not just a physical phenomenon but more truly an intangible response of the subtle body and the parasympathetic nervous system. I will cover some non-traditional aspects of holistic growth such as exploring dreams, meditation, breathing, stress relief, raising energy, shamanism, Tantric bodywork, bioenergetics, the brain vs. the mind, meat-based diet vs. vegetarianism, nutrition, exercise, and controversial topics such as entheogens and polyamory, to name a few.
Beginning this summer, I will be creating videos that address some of the issues and posting them on my new YouTube page. The videos will cover anatomy, nutrition, exercise, and more topics that I will also cover here in the blog. Why not sooner, you may ask? I need to get a video camera with a mic input. So until I upgrade to an iPhone or shell out some moolah for an actual digicam with a mic input, the videos will be on hold till summer-ish.
And I’m close to announcing the beta test for my orgasm training method, so be sure to sign up for my newsletter for more information on how to apply for that when the time comes.
All in all, I am profoundly grateful for all my new friends I’ve gained in the past year. It really has been amazing! Looking ahead, 2013 is destined to be even better. Stay tuned for exciting developments!
A male member of the AW Forum posted a discussion in the Music to Set the Mood area, saying:
“Just thought I would add a category that I like to call ‘Hard Erotica.’ It’s a little more gritty and animalistic… Sometimes a good fuck requires a little hair pulling….”
Seriously? We’re back to the “so easy a cave man could do it” attitude toward sex?
The songs to which this member linked were dance-music, “hardcore erotica” tracks from Basic Instinct and Madonna. As a composer of real music, I find that this sort of computerized drivel personifies what is wrong with popular music (overproduced, over-sampled, monotonous in “beat”), but I’ll leave that aside for now.
Describing an enthusiastic fuck as “animalistic” begins to lead the conversation about sex back toward hardcore porn — removing the humanity from sex and encouraging the monotonous mechanics of impersonal fucking — which is not something I subscribe to and is NOT the purpose of my forum or anything related to ArousedWoman(TM). Sex should be about connection — even casual fucking should have a dose of humanity and connectedness to it.
We all know sex can get really heated and… exuberant… that doesn’t mean the intent is “animalistic,” necessarily. This sort of description is exactly the terminology the church used to shame sex — that it was “base” and only for “lower” animals. Deep, fast, thrusting sex can be thrilling for sure, but that doesn’t mean it is “animalistic.” Sex can also be incredibly tender and beautiful. Sex should be a raising of energy between partners, not just a means of tension relief from erratic muscular contractions. In fact, from a Tantric perspective, the best orgasms happen from “slow sex.” (Yes, I said slow sex — as in, the man enters the vagina, and nobody moves for an hour… Yes, I said an hour.)
For myself, I make it clear to a partner that hair pulling is absolutely NOT OKAY. It’s not only a sign of aggravated assault (to me), but yanking a woman’s head back via hair pulling is dangerous to the cervical spine and the larynx (the tube for breathing and speech).
Men may have a fantasy about hair pulling because of what they’ve seen in “hardcore porn,” but only because they’ve never been on the receiving end of having their head yanked back by their long hair or ponytail. No, it is not the same feeling as when a woman curls her fingers in a man’s short hair (on his head) and pulls his head back (that is bad enough), but to have someone grab hold of your long hair, use it like a handle to jerk your head back is horribly painful — and again, dangerous to the neck and larynx.
Yes, I know, some readers will complain (again) that I’m being all “puritanical” and I’m “not at peace” with myself for expressing my opinion (and I’m not even on my period and all hormonal), but I don’t exist to perpetuate the stereotypes of women or sex. So suck it.
ArousedWoman(TM) is about awakening from the “dirty,” impersonal, shame-filled KoolAid of sexuality as demonized by religion and kinkified by a society still trying to find balance in sexual practices and “roles.” As I say on Twitter: “The human body is beautiful. Sex is beautiful.” Nothing about ArousedWoman(TM) is about hardcore porn, so find another site if that’s all you care about — there are plenty of porn & sex sites that perpetuate the pro-church, misogynistic attitudes toward sexuality. ArousedWoman(TM) is NOT one of those.
One last word on monotonous dance music… If a man can only move his hips in one rhythm, he’s a dud in bed. Give me a man who can fuck the 1812 Overture, and we’ll talk.
While doin’ my Tumblr thang this morning, I came across a pic of a blonde Autumn Queen photo set, which I reblogged. But it reminded me of my own Autumn Princess/Queen photo set that I took back in November 2001, a couple weeks before I went to Pine Ridge Indian Reservation in South Dakota.
My hair was still long from my get-back-to-my-Irish-pagan-traditions time when I let my hair grow for years without any trimming — pre-natal vitamins back in 1998 had helped with that initially. And I thought it would be a great chance to show my true witchy side with my theatrical self thrown in for good measure — after all, you can take the thespian out of the theatre, but you can’t take the theatre out of the stage ham.
Autumn is my favorite season. Copper is my metal. Orange (and anything red-orange, fiery) is my color. Fire is my element. Lava is my … well … Nevermind…. The Empress is my soul card. “The Queen of the Night” (from Mozart’s The Magic Flute) was my dream role and fave aria to sing back in the day.
So everything just sort of fit together to create this Empress-inspired Autumn Princess photo set taken in my backyard. I designed and sewed the dress and made the crown from holiday decor bits and pieces. I grabbed one of my (many) brooms and took one of the (real) Scottish claymore swords off the wall in the livingroom. (Medieval weaponry was a hobby of mine. Don’t ever piss me off. :-P )
The resolution quality of the pictures is low (asshole husband didn’t want to use too much space on the camera), but I still love these pictures. I had lost much of my post-partum weight and was looking forward to my trip to South Dakota. Overall, I was happy at this time and feeling very good about myself. And I think it shows.
Hard to believe these were taken 11+ years ago. Maybe I’ll do a new set this year….
So, what does YOUR inner Diva or Divo (for guys) look like? Who are you on the inside that maybe others don’t see? What fabulousness lurks within? Leave a comment below! :-D
Copyright 2013 by Trish Causey. All Rights Reserved.
Back on my own during the days, I have taken to using my glass toy (which I have not yet named :-) ), along with trying a slightly different position for my legs, and getting some great results — probably helped with my breast massage regimen and breath+sound work I’ve borrowed from Tantra and Kundalini practices.
For my orgasm sessions, I begin with just laying back and relaxing, breathing normally, letting my mind let go of the thoughts that are still buzzing across my conscious self. After 10 or 15 minutes — I don’t time it, I move on when I feel ready and mind-full (of nothing!). I start the relaxation breaths, adding in the occasional “Aum.” This lasts for maybe 15 minutes.
I add in sensual massage. Usually, I’m careful not to touch my nipples or I’ll start having energy orgasms immediately. I’ve found that if I start the massage on my clit, it lessens the sensitivity on my nipples (slightly, and only temporarily), but gentle, barely-there caresses of my clit and labia are simply luscious.
I may move to my nipples (more often than not, yes, I do) for some amazing stealth orgasms, or I’ll lightly brush my fingertips across my left hip which triggers jolts of energy up my leg to my left nipple, hardening her immediately. My right hip is not as quick to react and the energy is more subtle, but my right nipple still hardens into a pucker, reaching up to a point.
Many times recently, I have stayed there — just doing the lightest touch of my skin, my nipples, clit, and the inner and outer labia. Barely brushing my fingers over my clit shaft starts full-body orgasms that have my legs coming up, my back arched, and my head back facing the pillows, and I’m left breathless. I can keep these going for a while. These kinds of orgasms are different than “traditional” or manual orgasms in that these don’t take ANY work :-), and they’re like riding clouds of energy, with energy waves hitting my body like water crashing onto the seashore. I’m energized by the orgasms rather than being worn out after my usual blended orgasms (which rock my world but are exhausting).
Pressing my fingertips into my outer labia, I can feel the thick, corded bands of the PC muscles. Barely grazing my outer labia, they feel like velvet, warm and throbbing. My fingertips barely whisper across my inner labia which are still reaching outward at this point — they will lie open soon. This touch can start labia-gasms, and I can feel the texture of the inside of the inner labia change as the bloodflow to the tissue increases.
I’m still new to the direct, purposeful stimulation of my U-spot, the erectile tissue around the urethral opening. This area is usually stimulated without intention during blended/penetrative orgasms, but I am now focusing on the U-spot to help encourage my journey into female ejaculation.
Bringing my knees up to my torso definitely shortens the vagina, and it makes using the glass dildo easier on my wrist due to its curve. This makes for a wonderful stimulation of my prostate. Since the glass toy is narrower and shorter than my purple silicone friend Sparkles, it also feels more like a directional finger than a “toy” or penis substitute. I can definitely feel the tip and side as it rubs across certain spots (yes, the female prostate has more “spots” than just the G-spot/She Spot). Moving the glass toy back and forth, curving up at the side ensures the side of the prostate are stimulated as well — and this feels delicious.
Stimulation of the prostate, and most areas inside the vagina, are not as “pin-point” as stimulating the clit, but the vagus nerve and auxiliary nerves definitely make up for it by creating a feeling of a bubbling, churning cauldron of arousal energy that is ever-building, ever-growing, expanding outward through me and upward into the torso and heart chakra.
I consciously push out when stimulating the prostate directly — contrary to what “popular” opinion says to do with the stupid Kegel exercises (which actually inhibit vaginal orgasm). I LOVE the feelings that overtake me — like I suddenly have to go to the bathroom, like my insides are about to fall out — because I know my prostate is about to hit her stride and bubble over into full-body orgasms. I push out and remind myself to breathe — sometimes I catch myself and realize I’m holding my breath. There is a fetish of choking for some few-second orgasm that is ridiculous and dangerous. Oxygen FEEDS orgasms — breathe, breathe deeply, breathe fully, taking the breath into my belly and down into my pelvis… Breathing is essential to life and to orgasms… though saying “life” followed by “orgasms” seems redundant….
The double layers of muscles that line the vagina begin to rock and roll, and I manipulate them to keep them strong — so I don’t lose my skill of giving “vaginal blowjobs” (moving the vaginal walls in such a way as to give the penis the feeling of being sucked very powerfully).
Read * Part 2 * here.
For some reason the topic of “talking dirty” has come up several times recently. Apparently, men are under the assumption that women want to talk dirty, that we like to talk dirty, that we live for talking dirty in bed.
What the hell?!
Actually, most women do NOT like the “talk dirty” part of sex that men addicted to porn seem to like, or men who still view women under the Maiden/Whore dichotomy — “bad” girls do what “good” girls won’t stereotype.
“Oooo, baby, yeah, fuck me. Fuck my pussy with your big fat cock, ram it in me hard…”
What does “talking dirty” do for the man? What purpose is it supposed to serve?
I, personally, would NEVER “talk dirty.” “Talking dirty” is a dumbing-down affectation of porn and perpetuates the compartmentalizing of a woman into labels and categories, separating her into disparate personalities — i.e., the good-hearted, nurturing woman who is a mother couldn’t possibly be associated with the multi-orgasmic cougar in bed. What better way to segregate the various aspects of woman than to ask her to say or do something so contrary from her everyday personality or communicative style?
Besides that, “talking dirty” is an insult to my intelligence and my extensive vocabulary as a professional writer and performer of language.
Yes, I call a penis a penis or lingam, and my vulva is my vulva or yoni. I may call a penis a dick, but that is rare; and I say testicles and balls interchangeably. Other than that, my vagina is my vagina, and my clit is my clit. The anus, ass, and perineum are synonymous for both sexes. And my breasts are breasts — NOT ANY OTHER HORRIBLE, DEGRADING TERM that MEN (and implant Barbies) USE FOR BREASTS. BREASTS!!! That’s what they’re called, and that’s what I call them. Calling various parts of my anatomy by other names — particularly “dirty” slang terms — disassociates me from my body, or places my body into parts ( J. Alfred Prufrock style) as mere “things” for someone else’s use and enjoyment, not mine.
On a side note, I will call ejaculate “cum” but having an orgasm is not “cumming” — since ejaculating and having (lots of) orgasms are two completely different functions. And yes, my vaginal fluids ARE the “nectar of the gods,” thank you very much!
As I wrote in my article “Me, My Breasts, and I,” I hated my breasts most of my life because of how men treated them and treated me because of them. My body image was molded through the perspective of others who did not value me as a person or my body as the physical extension of my self. It took a Tantric breast meditation to integrate my breasts to my body and my sense of self, to love my body. But now, to be considered “hot,” I have to “talk dirty”? Fuck that!
Why would I talk “dirty” when there’s nothing dirty about sex or being sexual? As I say on Twitter ALL THE TIME: “The human body is beautiful. Sex is beautiful.”
I’m beginning to think that the concept of “talking dirty” is for the sole purpose of distancing the partners from an emotional connection — to keep the sex as just physical as opposed to an opportunity to experience beautiful, mind-blowing orgasms. Even fuck-buddies can have a great connection beyond the physical orgasm — without the “complications” of the dreaded “relationship.” Even Tantra partners who are not “in love” would never “talk dirty” — that would be so disrespectful, particularly to the woman. The man is beautiful. The woman is beautiful. The experience is beautiful. No ramming or dirty talk required.
If you’re a woman and you actually like to talk dirty, I would love to hear from you — to hear why you like to talk dirty — and don’t say because your male partner likes it — ’cause then you’re doing it for him, not because the want and desire to “talk dirty” emanates naturally from within you.
I can’t “talk dirty” about the body or being sexual because I find them both to be wonderfully beautiful. And I felt that way long before I began studying Tantra.
So bite me.
I went to bed late last night — actually, early this morning. It was after 2:30 a.m. that I finally stopped replying to tweets, took my shower, and got in bed (and replied to some more tweets). I allowed myself the late night because this morning would be Saturday, and Saturday mornings are my SASO’s and blended O’s time.
I was doing my hands-on blended O stimulation, and everything felt wonderful. I didn’t try thinking about Mr. Dream Man, I just focused on my body — the amazing sensations of the arousal, the shaking of my legs, the zinging energy, the heat raising up, my whole body really coming alive after a full night of rest and a long time of spontaneous O’s, nipple-gasms, and gentle clit-gasms just moments before. Truly wonderful.
Then I reached a certain point of arousal where I seemed to have slipped into neutral. I wasn’t progressing toward climax, nor was I regressing to less arousal. I was… stuck… in neutral gear…
I had marked the time when I started since I’d noticed hands-on blended O’s had started taking a while to experience, sometimes 30 minutes or longer. Now being stuck in neutral, trying to avoid conscientious time-noting, ego-driven minutes-counting, I was growing frustrated. The mind noise began. Should I just stop? (Too horrible to contemplate.) Should I try some fantasy? (Tried. Failed.) How long before I’m just totally ego-driving this process? (I really want to experience the yummy blended orgasms.) Does that guy outside really have to use a leaf blower in the middle of the day? Can’t he just use a push-broom or a rake on those leaves? Jeez….
Being “stuck” in neutral gave me a unique vantage point to observe my body — the changes through the arousal process, the jolts of energy still zinging up my legs, my glutes clenching, my hips rhythmically raising and lowering on the bed. And perhaps best of all, I was incredibly wet! My previous fears that my body was experiencing hormonal changes that were affecting my vaginal fluid production were allayed, thanks in no small part to my resumed regimen of chia seeds, fish oil, dark chocolate, and lots of water. I was ecstatically happy about the incredible amount of juices covering my vulva and upper thighs.
I must have been stuck in neutral for 10 minutes or longer. My attention kept being drawn to my left hand, the one working my prostate, feeling my hand sliding around on the vaginal and prostate fluids. My wonder at the physical process occurring sparked a thought… This extended, consistent stimulation of my clit and prostate is one of the hallmarks of arousal that brings about female ejaculation. I thought on that another few seconds. If I kept doing exactly this — this left-hand pressure and thrusting on my prostate, this right hand stim of my clit, my wetness, my clenching — I was bound to finally achieve true female ejaculation! How awesome would that be?!
The moment I had that thought, I could feel my inner clit squeezing like a vice-grip as its blood-filled erectile tissue expanded inward against my vaginal walls. I knew that feeling was the first cue of impending multiple orgasms. Except now, I wasn’t ready to orgasm! I wanted to feel this ejaculation cruise control! But I didn’t have any towels, and with the colder weather, I had my duvet on me and didn’t want to soak it. So I resolved myself to probably not ejaculating in one gush at that time — I was satisfied with the rhythmic release of fluid throughout the session.
When the orgasms began, I was mystified by their intensity and power. That “neutral” gear had served a purpose! It did something to my body — whether it was solely physical or a mind-body combo — that laid a foundation for the orgasms that literally rocked my world in that moment… for many moments… My whole body was involved in this process — I crunched forward repeatedly, my knees were up, my hips were rocking up toward my hands. I kept rolling over to my left side, my legs started kicking. I was making all sorts of weird moans — some lower pitched, some higher, all wild woman.
After I couldn’t use my hands anymore — my arms flew up over my head — my hips and legs were still going. Without the need for keeping my hands where they were, I rolled back and forth, my back arched, my nipples brushed back and forth against the sheet spurring the nipple-gasms and more back-arching. I felt the insane throbbing in my labia, my vagina, perineum, anus, energy zaps up and down my legs, all of it signaling an array of delicious orgasms, both body-centric and energy-induced.
As I lay in bed, still somewhat panting from the orgasms, I noticed a strange sensation in my left hand. Energy was zinging up my fingers, up my hand, and into my arm. Usually energy comes up my legs or out my left foot (at the ball of my foot). This was different. It felt as if my fingers were plugged into an electrical outlet and electrical energy was shooting up my fingers and up my arm to my neck, scalp, and face. Then I noticed I felt a similar electricity/energy up my right hand and arm.
All in all, this session from start to the end of the orgasms (that I was able to hand stimulate) was 21 minutes. Absolutely 21 minutes of incredible bliss — and so worth that neutral gear interlude in the middle. Like a symphony, the “lull” in the middle just laid the groundwork for the crescendo of the last movement, building up to the fireworks at the end.
I laid there, stunned by the awesome power of the experience. I can only hope that if I again experience that “lull” of neutral gear, I’ll remember this experience and know even that down-swing of the cycle has a purpose. I’m not broken, my practice is going fine. And I’m grateful for this experience to amaze in wonder at my body, the rising levels of orgasms possible, and the necessary ebb and flow of the arousal process.
Aroused and cruisin’,
The past few weeks, I have had issues with blended O’s — the few times I’ve done them (right hand on my clit, left hand stimulating my prostate), it’s either taken a long time — 30 minutes, or I’ve given up and gone for my purple silicone buddy, Sparkles.
Mainly, I’ve noticed that I’ve become ambivalent about using Sparkles when my spontaneous orgasms keep me happy all day and my stealth nipplegasms, subtle (one-finger barely moving) clitgasms — even labia-gasms! — are so fulfilling orgasmically that I don’t feel the need for penetration (at the time)… (It’s the rest of my waking hours that I’m horny as all get-out and want something that’s wide and hard inside me!)
I have also noticed that when I go for a length of time without doing the blended orgasms (both hands stimulating), it takes longer to bring myself to orgasm when I get back in to it. It’s as if I have to stay in practice with it the way a pianist has to stay in practice with the piano to keep up his technique, or the training starts to drain out of the muscle memory. For these body-centric orgasms, it’s not just my fingers and wrists that have to stay limber to bring about orgasm — my entire body has to “train” for orgasms since they are full-body experiences, especially in the abdominal area, my legs, and glutes.
I’ve been adjusting to the integration of the non-explosion clitoral part of my blended orgasm. It’s just weird to not feel it. But these new orgasms are amazing. Instead of feeling that hot explosion at one very centralized point (the head of the clit), the orgasms feel like a huge, powerful wave crashing against the coastline of my genitals, and I am thunderstruck by their intensity. With Sparkles, the blended O is very similar, yet even more powerful because of the added sensation of being penetrated and having it stimulate my A-Spot and cervix as well.
During the hands-on stim, I love feeling the changes to my prostate. She is just awesome! I’ve even discovered a few new spots within my prostate! I’m learning their signals, what it means orgasmically when I start to feel them emerging from the rougher texture of my aroused prostate. One of these spots is toward the left, the other two are toward the sides of the prostate (which is very important to stimulate as well!), along with my already discovered She Spot.
What’s been interesting to me has been my legs. A few minutes in to each hands-on session, my legs start shaking wildly, uncontrollably. I feel my glutes clenching and unclenching. My hips are rocking, reaching up repeatedly in their own rhythm. And here is where the problem begins…
Since I’ve got the physical part of the stimulation down, I’ve been trying to enjoy some fantasy time in my mind during arousal. Usually, I try to picture my Dream Man being the one to do all this stimulation (which would be much easier on my wrists if he were!). But I’m so in awe of the changes in, on, through my body that my mind doesn’t want to leave all this awareness of my body’s process to climax. As soon as I try picturing Mr. Dream Man, I lose some of the arousal (slightly). For some reason, I’m not interested in thinking of women… so that’s another issue to deal with another day…
I don’t do “fantasy” — as in made-up time, place, setting. And I know instinctively that it would not work for me, so no, I won’t try.
Between the extended time to orgasm via hands-on stim, not craving penetrative Sparkles sex, and loving my body’s changes more than I lust after my Dream Man, I know I’m at a crossroads. Don’t know what’s around the corner, but I’m taking a peek and will meet it head-on… and hands on. :-)
Aroused and feeling,
* This post is a follow-up to AskTrish: Man With Large Penis Worries About Causing Girlfriend Pain During Sex.*
My girlfriend, and I are now separated. I am failing at figuring women out. I have been trying to meet women. However, two women I know — by a friend we share in common — have been pretty blunt about wanting to sleep with me as a result of gossip. They just heard from a long-time ex when I dated her that I was well… you know. I would rather stay away. I don’t want this as I would rather see something more serious. I turn 29 in February. I don’t really enjoy meaningless sex unless it’s with someone I know and trust. I don’t trust someone who comes up and says something like that. So what are my options?
Women are complex. Most women aren’t easy to get to know because they’ve been taught to play games. But I think your instincts are spot on!
It’s heartening to me that a man as young as you would want a serious relationship and not just sex. However, if you’re looking to date women younger than yourself, you’re likely to find immature women who will treat you (and your penis) like a side show spectacle at the circus.
As for the gossip, you’ll probably get that wherever you go with your circle of friends, especially if you see your exes a lot. Here is where dating can be problematic for you. Younger women may be “sowing their wild oats” (that society takes for granted with young men), while women your age or slightly older might be looking for men to have kids with. And you’re stuck in the middle — wanting a meaningful relationship but not ready for kids.
Women in their early 20’s often play out their princess-daddy’s-girl bullshit in relationships with men. Men in their early 20’s treat relationships as status symbols and easy-access sex. Women in their late 20’s have begun to taste life on their own — out of college, in the work force, paying their way, usually putting career first. By the time women hit their 30’s, many women feel the desire to start a family. Men may not feel this until their mid- to late 30’s or even their 40’s. Between the games people play in relationships and the different goals people set for themselves, it’s a wonder two people ever find a happy, healthy relationship!
As for your comment, “I don’t enjoy meaningless sex unless it’s with someone I know and trust.” I think you should re-adjust your notion of “meaningless” sex. If you’re having sex with a friend for the sake of having sex (i.e., an enjoyable time with someone you know and trust), that is not “meaningless.” Sharing a beautiful sexual experience with another human being has value, even if you’re not “in love” with that person. “In love” is a chemical reaction in the brain due to the transference of pheromones and other body chemicals between two people. At some point in your life, you may have experienced that loss of “in love” once your brain is immune to the chemical stimuli of her body’s biology, and vice versa. The ennui of “in love” can fade quickly, and you’re left wondering, “What now?”
Loving and appreciating another human being does not have to come with a prison sentence and the “strings attached” that we’re used to. From my perspective, sharing a wonderful, orgasmic experience with another person adds value to my life and hopefully to the other person’s. I’ve done a lot of work on myself in the past couple of years, and I know what orgasm is supposed to be — it is a way to connect to the universal energy, to experience bliss in no other way we can in this meat-suit body.
As I look ahead to my divorce being finalized, I’ve been scoping out men I know and trust — to not hurt me, not have diseases, have had a vasectomy. As I told the man who will probably be my first post-divorce sexual experience, “I might say ‘I love you’ during sex. Don’t worry. I don’t want commitment. It just means I love you a a human being. Because if I didn’t, I wouldn’t be having sex with you anyway… and I’ll probably cry… a lot… I do when the orgasms are really good.” I couldn’t share that with a man I didn’t trust, even though he and I are not “in love.”
N., I would say you have two options: Go through with the “meaningless” sex/relationships to satisfy your manly, physical needs, but you may feel as if your heart and soul are suffering with the purely physical encounters. The other option is to go celibate until the universe decides it is time for you to meet your dream woman. You can’t make the younger women more mature, nor can you make the right woman appear in your life before it is time for your paths to cross.
In fact, I highly recommend you go for Option 2. Spend time working on yourself so that you are the right person when the time is right for you to meet your right partner.
If you go for Option 1, find yourself a “cougar.” There must be a way to meet women in your area who are over the age of 38-ish, are done having kids, and have divorced their asshole husband (who’s probably currently having a mid-life crisis of his own). Most cougars want the orgasms they didn’t get in marriage and crave adventurous sex sans procreation.
By the way, if you’re hanging out in bars for women, that’s your first mistake. Stay out of the bars. :-) And if your circle of friends keeps bringing this heartache, get a new circle of friends.
Since you’re looking for a relationship that improves you as a human being, look for similarly-minded women in places that also reflect they are looking to improve themselves as human beings. Attend a yoga class, join a hiking club, sit in on a reading at a local (erotic) bookshop.
You never know where or when Miss Right will show up.
* For phone consultations, email trish via the AW website. *
I’m a 50 year-old straight (but bi-curious) male. I have been with my female partner for 5 years now and have been living with her for 4 years. I am in school 300 miles away. The past few months, while I have been here, I have talked to her about exploring her own sexuality — not an open relationship as I am not wanting that, just giving her the freedom to explore whatever desires she finds. I believe there is great healing in sexual freedom which is truly empowering. So, tomorrow night she has a ‘movie night’ with a friend of ours who has made it very clear he wants to fuck her. He is a good friend and the safe factor is one that cannot be ignored. I actually encouraged him to move ahead with pursuing her at my birthday party on Friday night! Can a person be able to feel true happiness at the thought of his partner not only having sex with a friend, but encouraging it and enjoying her pleasure by offering her the liberty to do so as she desires? I know the idea is so very exciting to me, but I don’t hear talk about this stuff in many places. I know I will be so very happy when she tells me all about it tomorrow night, I guess I am just looking to hear a woman’s thought on having that level of freedom while in a committed relationship, albeit a long distance one. Do you have any thoughts on this? I guess the bottom line is how deep does ‘control’ run in the male psyche?! I feel so un-male by being so seemingly un-normal! Would you, as a woman, feel ‘liberated’ or some other something else? Would this kind of freedom (for lack of a better term) be received as a negative by women?
A million thoughts are running through my head, many of which you may not like. So please accept my response with a grain of salt as it comes with a healthy dose of tough love. Since you’re in Canada, I’m too far away to give you the ass-kicking my Irish fire really wants to administer. Clearly, the misogyny of patriarchal culture is entrenched in the northern climes — which is sad since I’ve always heard Canadians were so nice.
I’ll address your male psyche first. You are not “un-manly” or “un-normal.” You are following your desires as a consenting adult. Neither a sexually repressed society nor antiquated, misogynist religion should be your barometer in pursuing adult relationships. However, these negative influences have shaped you as evidenced in your verbiage, which I purposely left whole so you could see your subconscious language patterns: “giving her the freedom,” “offering her the liberty,” “a woman’s thought on having that level of freedom,” “would you, as a woman, feel ‘liberated'”… What century are you living in?! And are you sure you don’t live in Arizona?
Whether this relationship you have with your woman is committed, casual, or even legally bound with a
prison sentence marriage license, she is a free, autonomous human being and can “fuck” or “make love” with whomever she chooses, and she doesn’t need your permission or your “giving” her the liberty and freedom from psychological slavery to pursue the physical and emotional needs of her own body, heart, and mind. Capiche?
I’ll get off my soap box because I know your intention is not to sound like a misogynist jerk. Your language is indicative of living in an oppressive patriarchal culture while your heart and spirit desperately want validation and freedom from that very oppression.
Clearly, you and your woman have great communication, for which I applaud you! While you say you don’t want an open relationship, you, in fact, have one. It could even be polyamory if the other partner(s) have emotional feelings as well. These types of relationships are not talked about in society for the same reason homosexual and bisexual relationships are still taboo — they threaten the hetero-patriarchal dynamic that limits relationships to male/female and institutionalizes the hierarchy of a superior male with an inferior female’s body and mind being owned by the male.
For me, I have sworn I would never do another long distance relationship because they’re expensive, annoying, and sexually frustrating. However, I have always thought that sex “in the meantime” is okay because we all have needs. The body wants sex. The heart wants love. You make accommodations when you can’t be with the one you love via abstinence, cheating, or an open relationship where both people understand there is a physical need that is separate from the emotional need — if that is an understanding that is right for the both of you.
For instance, if I were in a relationship with a soldier, knowing he or she will be gone for months or even longer than a year, I would tell them to have sex when they can with someone “safe,” i.e., don’t bring home any diseases. The body has needs and wants. So I’m perfectly fine with them having sex with a fellow soldier or “safe” partner while on deployment. Do what you need to do to make it through the day to stay alive and come home.
Some species mate for life while most of the earth’s inhabitants only have flings or “open” relationships for each mating season. Humans may choose monogamy or polyamory as dictated by their personal needs or spiritual/religious beliefs.
Polyamorous relationships are not fully understood or accepted by most monogamous people. The non-poly people don’t understand how two people in a committed relationship can be with others outside the relationship and not get jealous. Getting jealous is just not something in the make-up of polyamorous folks. This hippie/free-love notion of open acceptance and loving everyone is a threat to our competition-driven imperialistic society that thrives on conflict and profits from war. Polyamory will never be accepted as a mainstream lifestyle in the West until the oppressive overlords figure out how to make money off of it.
Back in my early 20’s, the theatre orgies I participated in were a revelation in how committed couples can explore their sexuality with friends — with their partner participating, watching, or exploring with someone else — and no one ever got jealous. Ever. There was no reason to get jealous because the desires and explorations were out in the open, as opposed to “cheating” behind a partner’s back. Exploring our bodies sexually had nothing to do with the love for a committed partner…. But that’s bohemian artists for you!
I have friends who have been in polyamorous relationships — a man and his female partner with another woman whose male partner was a prude. His jealousy of her need for the poly relationship put a damper on all four of them. So, James, embrace your open relationship, and revel in the level of communication you and your partner have because what you have is rare and wonderful!
You also have a voyeuristic side to you, and I’m sure you not only want to hear about the sex your partner is having with her friend/fling, but you probably wouldn’t mind sitting in the corner and watching, yes? If you’re turned on by watching your partner flirt, there’s no harm in that as long as both of you have that clear understanding. Problems arise when one partner wants things for the relationship that the other partner does not.
I would be interested to hear why, at the age of 50, you’re bi-curious and have never taken the plunge! Following your desires instead of living vicariously through your woman’s experiences with men might open a whole new world of sexual possibilities for your relationship. Being with two guys is as much a fantasy for a lot of women as being with two women is a dream for a lot of men.
You are normal. You are masculine. You and your partner are doing just fine, in my opinion. Keep up the wonderful communication between the two of you. Do let me know how ‘movie night’ went! Also, leave a comment if you have any more questions — and to tell me you forgive my tough love. :-)
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