my insecurities make me selfish

*based on conversations I’ve witnessed between clients and in my own life. 

my insecurities make me selfish………..

i turn off the lights before sex so that you don’t see the parts of my body that disgust even me. 

I thought maybe you wanted the lights off because I’ve gained weight this year and my abs aren’t defined.

i don’t give you head because I don’t think I’m good at it and I don’t want to disappoint you. 

I thought you didn’t like my dick because it’s too small. 

i don’t let you go down on me because I think my pussy is gross and you can’t possibly want to lick it. 

I thought you just don’t like the way I lick you. 

when I orgasm I put my face against a pillow because I don’t want you to see how weird I look. 

It hurts me that in our most intimate moments you won’t look at me. 

my favourite sex position is doggy style but I never want to do it because you might see the cellulite on my ass. 

I thought you didn’t want to do it because my belly is too big. 

i fake orgasms because I’m embarrassed by how long it takes me to actually have one.

I thought you faked because I’m no good at pleasuring you. 

when you gave me the gift for my birthday and I complained about it being too expensive instead of thanking you, it was because I didn’t think I deserved something so special. 

I thought “I’ve screwed up again.”

i stopped initiating sex because of that time when I lost my erection and I felt like I’d failed you. 

I thought you stopped initiating because I’m no longer attractive to you. 

i don’t talk to you at work because I think you’re way smarter than me and I don’t want to look stupid. 

I thought you didn’t want to know me. 

i didn’t ask you out on a date because I couldn’t face the rejection if you said no. 

I thought you just didn’t like me. 

i’ve never invited you into my home because I’m embarrassed of it. 

I thought you don’t care about me. 

i didn’t tell you that you look nice the other day — even though I thought you did — because I was scared you’d say it back to be polite and I know that I didn’t look nice. 

I would have loved hearing you say that. 

i never ask you to do anything with me, or say yes when you ask me, because I think I’m boring and no fun to be around -unlike you who’s so interesting!

I thought you must think I’m no fun to be around. 

i wanted to bring you a meal when your mom died but I was scared I’d say the wrong thing so I avoided you. 

I felt unsupported and unloved. 

my insecurities make me selfish………….

When I’m 80 Years Old…….

I came upon these 3 questions in a book I was reading on a flight to Montreal last weekend. Without thinking of my answers I quickly scribbled them down in my book. Afterwards when I read them over, I felt very emotional, and have come back to reread them many times. At the end of the day – or of my life – this is what matters to me. <3

When I’m 80 years old, how will I answer these questions? How will you? Before you read my answers, I encourage you to answer the questions for yourself.

What was my life about? What did I care about? What do I want others to know that I did with my life? 

What was my life about? My life was about love and connection — both inwards and outwards.  With myself, my children, intimate partners, friends, circle sisters, clients and strangers. It was about everything that I could feel and know without seeing. Connection with myself for connection with the people around me. Connecting my inner layers with your inner layers. Seeking to under stand you as if you are me. Our circles converging. 

What did I care about? I cared about connections with others. Expressing my love through touch, words and actions. Getting to know the people I love enough that I can love them in a way that feels loving to them. Understanding, knowing and accepting myself so that I could understand, know and accept others. 

What do I want others to know that I did with my life? I want others to know that I did hard, painful work to know myself enough that I had something to offer me – and you – in my love. That it came from the deepest, innermost parts of me. To love in this way I had to be vulnerable and brave and honest with myself enough to know ME. This knowing became my lifes’ work. The more I was able to see me…. the more I was able to see you. To do this wasn’t easy, but it was worth it. To know me. To know you. To feel me. To feel you. And to love us. 

having cancer is THE best thing that has ever happened to me

Last year at this time I was recovering from surgery to remove an inch long cancerous tumor that was growing on the right half of my thyroid. I was still in shock and very much feeling shame about what I must have done, or not done, to get it.

I’d be lying if I said that I don’t still carry some of that shame, or that it isn’t incredibly difficult for me to tell anyone that I’ve had cancer and have to see the look on their face in response. That by saying it out loud or having to put it on forms at the dentist’s office, I feel like a walking reminder of our mortality that no one wants to be reminded of. That I don’t dread having to share the story with a new lover or partner and wonder if they’ll still love me. That I don’t question what awful thing I did to deserve this, or wonder if I’m a complete fraud for talking about self love when I’m obviously failing at it or this wouldn’t have happened to me.

All of these stories are a part of the current layers of shame that I’m ever so gently peeling off these days, and yet what woke me at 4:30am this morning wasn’t shame, but rather gratitude.

Having cancer is THE best thing that has ever happened to me. I know it sounds cheesy but it’s like I’ve been shown the value of my life and now I get to really LIVE it.

I can live enthusiastically and wholeheartedly in all things that I do. 

I can choose to care about what matters to me and not give a shit about what doesn’t.

I can walk naked in slow motion across a nude beach with a bunch of other naked people (at least 10 years older than me) laughing hysterically at the way our bodies jiggle when laughing hysterically. 

I can expand my work to include men who also struggle with physical and sexual shame. 

I can be the me that I am when I’m having sex alone – with a partner. Growling, laughing, crying, breathing like I’m giving birth. 

I can go to Mexico on a week long date. 

I can take my kids to visit Raffi. 

I can facilitate Bodysex retreats in other places. 

I can have the most difficult conversations of my life and come out feeling like I climbed Mt. Everest. 

I can take most of the summer off so that my children get to experience living enthusiastically with me in the least expensive ways possible. 

I can choose to be grateful for each day that I wake up knowing that I have the ability to chose my desires over my fears.

I can, I can, I can. 

And I do. <3

 

 

 

 

 

Letting My Scars Show

 

Last week I posted a pic of myself on social media, biking with my 4 times pregnant, stretched stomach showing just a bit. I’ve never received such a response from anything I’ve posted and it made me realize how much even I – who promotes body acceptance and vulnerability – have been afraid of being seen as I am. There’s still an old belief that if I’m seen I won’t be accepted – and yet I do accept myself. I guess I don’t necessarily trust others to do the same.

After the overwhelmingly positive response I received, I looked through my photos on social media and imagined myself from the outside looking in. I realized that I write about my scars but I don’t necessarily show them.

 

Here are two photos of me taken on the same day. One covering the physical marks that remind me of the beautiful beings I helped create, and the other showing them. In both I was sweaty and flushed from my bike ride and in both I felt absolutely beautiful. At the end of the day, both are of me and I apologize for taking so long to show up publicly in this full expression of myself. ❤️

Q&A: “I Can Make Myself Cum No Problem, But Not With Him”

 

Almost always the answers are within us – sometimes we just need someone to ask the right questions to bring them out.

Q: Hey Natasha, are you still doing q&a? I have a sex question and I’m all kinds of embarrassed to ask.

A: Yes totally! Ask away! 

Q: Okay. So I’ve been seeing a guy for a few months. The sex has been great and at first I was cumming every single time. Lately, the past month or two, I haven’t been able to orgasm with him at all. The sex is still super hot and I really enjoy it, but what’s going on? I can make myself cum no problem, but not with him anymore.

A:  Have you tried masturbating with him? Did anything happen of significance around the time you stopped cumming during sex with him?

Q: I haven’t tried masturbating with him, sometimes I touch myself when we fuck but even that doesn’t do it. When it was strictly physical/casual, I could easily orgasm every time without touching myself. I can’t think of anything of significance…although maybe it was around the time I started to develop feelings for him. And of course I haven’t expressed those feelings to him…which is probably the problem, isn’t it?

A: Yes!! That is very insightful of you! Having feelings for someone and expressing them requires vulnerability. Orgasms are vulnerable. To orgasm is to surrender and surrender can’t happen when you’re holding back.

Q: Well shit, that makes perfect sense. Having been in a relationship for so long, sex and vulnerability with someone new is so different. So I guess I’m gonna have to do something about these feelings, both relationship-wise and sexually. It could totally scare him away, but if it does then that just means that he’s not right for me right now.

A: Yes!!! look at you owning your feelings more than your need for his response to them!! Yay!! That’s liberation!

Bodysex Is The Ultimate Love Affair

Sometimes it’s difficult for me to write about Bodysex retreats because I feel a responsibility to honour the other women through my words and yet, just like in the circle, I can only speak for myself.  I find that each retreat peels another layer off of the armour that I wear and, with that, the mirror image that I see reflected in the women’s eyes becomes more clear. Seeing myself with more clarity — and less armour — frees me to be me. I can only hope and trust that this increased freedom to be me, gives the women the freedom to experience themselves in their full expression as well. 

I came into last weekend’s retreat grieving the end of a relationship that was and is very dear to me. I felt heartbroken and tender — yet at the same time excited and curious to be amongst a new circle of women. As soon as Patti and I got to the retreat space and began setting up, my body — remembering the familiar smells, sights and feels of the space — began to settle and soften. Body sex is home to me.

The next morning while we waited for the women to arrive, I laid down naked on the couch for some quiet time while Patti and Justine sat across the room doing henna. In between answering texts from nervous women, reading quotes and drinking tea — I touched myself. Connecting to my body through pleasure always grounds me — bringing me into me.  Pleasuring myself in the same room as them, while they were experiencing pleasure in their own way, didn’t seem at all strange. When I orgasmed Patti looked back at me and smiled, then went back to discussing her henna design with Justine. I smiled too in recognition of the freedom I felt experiencing this kind of intimacy — in full acceptance and non judgement — by women that I’m not sexually intimate with. We eat, we sleep, we orgasm, we don’t orgasm, we cry, we share our darkest secrets and deepest shame. In all of it there is no hierarchy or relative importance between these things and I couldn’t help but think that this is how I imagine the perfect love affair. 

That feeling of freedom stayed with me the entire weekend and I can honestly say that I felt free in a way that I have never felt before. I loved being naked and felt completely at home and beautiful in my body. Even outside in the cold I’d pull up my dress so that my pussy was exposed and free. In this freedom my vulva lips bloomed and opened up to the world as if to say “this is me in my abundance and I’m not hiding anymore!!!!” 

The freedom showed up in my ability to empathize with the women’s pain but not wish I could rescue them from it. Knowing that this journey is hard, I felt less responsibility for everyone’s experience and yet somehow trusted that they were having the experience that they needed. I was able to reach out physically in ways that I haven’t before — trusting myself and the women that it was welcome. I’ve always felt like I’m too much and because of this I’d hold back. Feeling free in the way I express love and compassion, I held a woman in a fully naked body hug, as she grieved a loss of her own. 

In this freedom I realized that Bodysex represents a unique and beautiful dichotomy of self growth and self pleasure while at the same time an experience of deep interpersonal connection. In the contrast of these two things, we find the common connection of vulnerability. Each of us in the circle travels our own path, expresses our own shame, feels our own pain, and celebrates our own pleasure, yet we are never alone for any of it.  We do so being witnessed and witnessing in a circle of sisterhood. Body sex is the ultimate love affair. 

With this very difficult and vulnerable piece of writing, another layer of armour falls off and once again my mirror image is more clear.  This freedom isn’t only in Bodysex. This freedom is in me. 

Much love to all of you: Bambi, Bunny, Aloha, Turtle, Kiki, Ginny, Sage, Marina, Rosa, Sasha, Roxy and Liberty. 

**special thanks to my dear sister Patti who’s encouragement as I wrote this meant the world to me and without it I could not have shared it. You are a gift. 

** photo credit to the talented Meghan Mickelson and shared with permission