My Lover

My Lover

My lover is my best friend — absolutely dependable and always shows up.
My lover sees me exactly as I am — flaws, strengths and everything in between — and mirrors these things back to me.
My lover enjoys touching my whole body and knows that every single part of me can feel erotic.
My lover pays attention to both obvious and subtle things. How my breath changes in response to a certain touch, the movement of my hips, the heat rising up my neck.
My lover knows that pleasure can be felt through each of my senses and reminds me to experience pleasure throughout the day. …….The feel of blackberries on my tongue. The smell of sun sweat. The sound of leaves clicking together in the wind. The flow of the river. The taste of a fresh peach. That’s our foreplay.
My lover likes the smoothness of my skin when I shave and the softness of my pubic hair when I don’t.
My lover is more turned on by my natural scent than any product I could ever wear. My scent just makes me more me.
My lover always wants to have sex when I do, and doesn’t when I don’t.
My lover could spend all day in bed with me and never get bored.
My lover brings me to orgasm over and over when I’m bleeding, knowing that it helps me feel better and gets the blood flowing faster.
My lover doesn’t feel bad when I want to cum quickly or when I want to edge my pleasure for hours.
My lover knows it’s much more than “just masturbation.”
My lover is me.

** photo credit to Dana Kellet

The Trickle Effect That Bodysex Has

Last week I woke up to the sight of my 7 year old daughter laying beside me, wrapped in a quilt made by one of my Bodysex sisters. She had made the quilt for me last year in exchange for a friend of hers to attend one of my Bodysex retreats. Since then the quilt has mostly been used in my counselling office or at my retreats — providing warmth and comfort to women when they need it.

Seeing her wrapped in such a perfect symbol of sisterhood, I couldn’t help but think of the trickle effect that Bodysex has, not only on the women attending — but on the next generation of children. Even if they never attend a workshop, the very structure and concept of Bodysex is one we rarely see examples of in today’s culture. Women supporting other women — absent of competition. Real naked bodies — not on display, but simply being. Honest, vulnerable sharing of our most hidden stories, greatest fantasies and everything in between. Shared celebration of self pleasure as our fundamental birthright. And the healing experience of non sexual, loving touch from women who actually SEE us.

Tucking the quilt in tighter I continued to watch her, hoping that her little body would soak in some of the power of the collective stories and pleasures that the quilt holds. That as she grows and becomes a woman herself she will find acceptance in her body, love of self, enjoyment of pleasure and true sisterhood.

I love you Naya <3

I Masturbated By Hand Two Nights In A Row And Orgasmed Both Times!

 

Emails like this one make the vulnerability and struggle in this work worthwhile. This woman first contacted me a couple of years ago because she was having issues with orgasming – particularly by hand. With practice, acceptance and patience she is now an Orgasmic woman!!

A lot has happened the last seven days: I turned 20, thus making it two years since I started to learn about my body and pleasure, and I masturbated by hand two nights in a row and orgasmed both times! These are big things because growing up feeling like I’m behind the in-crowd has made it feel like I’m not worthy of pleasure because I’ve bloomed a little later. But when the time is ripe, you’ll bloom! It took me two years to feel comfortable in a space and in my body in a way that I could make a connection with myself like that.
Your posts about body image and personal pleasure are inspiring, and it is absolutely lovely to see so much encouragement and self-love hope from so many people! Thank you for creating such a loving space where we can celebrate these pleasures!”

5 Years Ago On Christmas Night………

5 years ago on Christmas night I stayed up late reading a book written by Naomi Wolf, called “Vagina.” Having just begun to feel an awakening in my own sexuality I was searching for guidance from other women on what this meant and, in some ways, the permission to allow it.

Naomi wrote that “Female sexual pleasure, rightly understood, is not just about sexuality, or just about pleasure. It serves, also, as a medium of female sexual knowledge and hopefulness; female creativity and courage, female focus and initiative; female bliss and transcendence; and as a medium of a sensibility that feels very much like freedom. To understand the vagina properly is to realize that it is not only coextensive with the female brain, but is also, essentially part of the female soul.”

Even with my very limited first hand experience with these words, they resonated deeply with me and I knew that this was not only what I was seeking to learn, but also what I’d been afraid of and holding back from for years. My identity had been tied to mothering, being a supportive wife and giving to others. Seeking this pleasure – which honestly almost felt like a bad word – seemed selfish and unmotherly.

Nervous yet Inspired by the book I decided to touch myself – something that I’d never done before. This idea seemed foreign and because I didn’t really like my body, having to touch it reminded me of everything that was “wrong” with it. Unsure and unconvinced about what I was doing, my first few attempts didn’t go very well.  I was so completely focused on having an orgasm that I hardly felt a thing. Like an over eager lover I went straight for my clit and ignored the rest of my body – which needed to be touched just as much. Frustrated that this wasn’t working I thought that there was surely something wrong with me until one day it just happened – I’d brought myself to orgasm with just my hands!

I was thrilled and the orgasm was a great reward for all my persistence and hard work – but what ended up being the most profound for me was what I learned through the process of discovery. I learned about my body, what feels good for me, that I actually liked what I felt like under my fingers and because of that I imagined that someone else might like it too. I learned to be patient, to enjoy the build up, to use all of my senses and all of my body. I also learned that my own touch – whether or not it led to orgasm – could help me at difficult times in my life, reminding me that I’ll be okay and that I’m always here for me.

I’m so grateful to be able to say that in these past 5 I have come to not only understand but live what Naomi was saying. Through embracing and seeking out pleasure I have healed, became a better mother, more self aware, learned to trust and honour my intuition, set boundaries, seek out my passions, forgive myself, grow through vulnerable situations and finally to love and be loved. ……and as Naomi says that “feels very much like freedom.”

.Merry Christmas. <3

I Came Home And Stripped Naked And Looked In The Mirror And Said “You Are Beautiful, You Have Beautiful Curves.”

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I haven’t finished my write up from this past weekend’s Bodysex retreat but a couple of testimonials have already come in. Here is one of them. I’m so happy for her!!!

“That was the hardest thing I have ever done in my life. All of those women made me feel so comfortable and every one of them are so real!!!! I need more sisters in my life to make me feel that way. I came home stripped naked and looked in the mirror and said “you are beautiful, you have beautiful curves.” Today and going forward I am gonna love myself and exercise and eat healthy and nourish my body and make love to myself……. And fucking orgasm. YES!!!!! Thank you for helping me find myself again.” 

 

Orgasmic Women

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This is dedicated to the women in my life who have taught me that being orgasmic is a kind of conscious awareness that extends far beyond our physical orgasms. Thanks for paving the way…….

I watch her, red stained hands, wearing only a bikini as she picks raspberry after raspberry and puts them in a bucket. Small but strong, she carries her body in a way that makes me pay attention. She is a mother – nearly 20 years older than me – and looking down at my youthful, yet covered up body, I know that she know’s something that I don’t.

It’s in the subtle sway of her hips, in the healthy food that she eats, the love she puts into her body, and that look of mischief in her eyes that tells me there is always something more going on. This is an orgasmic woman.

We huddle together in a wine bar drinking glass after glass and people watching. She is in her 80’s, and needs to sit close enough to hear me talk over the hum of the people around us. Servers come and go and she makes comments under her breath about who she would like to take home and *%&#. A little while later she sits holding a crying woman in her arms – who was a stranger only moments before.

It’s in her acceptance of herself. The swears, the irreverence, the dirty talk and at the same time her acceptance of others. It’s in the freedom to be exactly who she is and not apologize. This is an orgasmic woman.

I see her standing there looking like a jewel against a cement background. She’s in her sixties, scarf blowing in the wind, cheeks flushed, hair in complete disarray. From the look on her face I know that she has taken on the town today. And she has.

It’s in her wind blown hair, in her smile that knows things that other women don’t, and in her ability to completely lose herself in her orgasms. This is an orgasmic woman.

It’s early in the morning and I’m laying in bed feeling more awake than I’ve ever felt in my life. Taking off my blanket the cold air hits my warm body, instantly making all the tiny hairs stand on end. I shiver and the shiver reminds me of the shiver I feel when I’m touched. Skin on skin. Moving my hands closer to my body I can feel the heat from them on my skin, and I arch towards it. Closer my hands gets until they rest on the tiny hairs that are still standing erect from the cold. The pressure form my hand on the tips of the hairs sends more shivers into my body and instantly I am overcome with pleasure.

Swaying my hips, putting love into my body, accepting myself just as I am, I lose myself in my orgasms. I am an orgasmic woman.