It Is Absolutely Okay to Want to Orgasm Each Time You Experience Sexual Intimacy

When I began my journey of sexual awakening thirteen and a half years ago, I viewed and experienced sex as a way to please partners’ and feel loved. I had never orgasmed during partner sex or from anyone pleasuring me and, until then, it hadn’t really occurred to me that sex could be for my pleasure too. I knew I was supposed to look like I was enjoying it, but I didn’t know that I could actually enjoy it. I masturbated a lot growing up and experienced orgasm through that, but in all the sex education I received, no one had told me that what I experienced masturbating could be experienced in sex. In fact, I had no idea that pleasure had anything to do with sex at all.

At the age of 32 I realized that I was living my life for others, and my own unacknowledged needs (apart from making others happy) were suppressed so deep that I didn’t know where to even begin finding them. Wanting to connect to myself, I began a daily practice of touching my body and feeling through my fingertips to discover what I needed. In time, with this touch, I upgraded my childhood masturbation method to a more full body experience of pleasure and orgasm. Inspired by the legacy of Betty Dodson©, I decided to incorporate masturbation into partner sex and in doing so, “owned my right to pleasure” as she put it. It took a bit to become unapologetic in this, but once I did, I orgasmed every single time I had sex with my husband. If It happened that he came first, I made sure that our sexual encounter didn’t end until I orgasmed as well. I was embodying what Betty taught me and, through this lens, everything changed.

Now that I was getting something from sex as well, it became something I wanted to do often — not only for him, but to meet my own sexual needs. Knowing what worked for me and not waiting for him to step up and offer me that, I never had to worry about not orgasming. It was up to me. Once I had achieved a high level of proficiency in this area, I felt resourced enough to step back and assess the quality of my sexual experiences. I wondered what other needs I had in intimacy now that this baseline one was filled. With this new level of discernment, I realized that I was “well fed” with orgasms so to speak, and now wanted to focus on the quality of my intimacy. I longed for things I was afraid to ask for — sensuality, slowing down, deeper emotional connection, touching and extended pleasure states. As I began stating my needs and asking for these things, I realized that they all involved a more willing partner.

Nearly fourteen years later, I’ve gone through divorce and built a successful business supporting individuals and couples in all aspects surrounding intimacy. Remarried now, my own sexual intimacy is centered around shared touch, extended states of pleasure, connection and taking time – I know orgasm will always be a part of it — so I focus more on expanding and savoring the journey.

I often hear women who aren’t orgasming in sex, dismiss it as “unimportant” and talk themselves out of it by maintaining that they’re “fine” having sex to feel connected and to keep their partner happy. Ironically these same women often come to me for help with “low libido” (as I once had). I remind them that having sex for someone else’s needs, or as another task on the to do list gets old quickly and it’s no surprise they don’t feel a libido for it.  At the same time I often read articles written by sex educators or women proficient in orgasming with partners’, talking down to women who are focused on orgasm. They speak as if orgasm as a goal is for “basic” people and they’re somehow missing the whole point. When I hear this I’m reminded of a quote by Kahlil Gibran I discovered over twenty years ago that has stuck with me since:

How bravely the glutton counsels the famished to bear the pangs of hunger.”

It’s easy to say orgasm doesn’t matter when you know you can have one whenever you want. It’s easy to focus on the quality of an experience when you feel you have choice in how the experience goes. Many women were raised with so much shame around pleasure that they haven’t learned to orgasm or don’t feel comfortable seeking it out as a right to expect as part of their intimacy.

It is absolutely okay to want to orgasm each and every time you experience sexual intimacy with your partner or yourself. If the narrative was reversed and men were told it didn’t matter if they orgasmed, they’d be rioting in the streets – and rightly so! There is nothing wrong with wanting orgasm for yourself and being committed to that as a baseline in your sexual intimacy. Orgasms feel great, are good for us, release tension, stress and give us amazing feel good chemicals. Why wouldn’t we want them? And, if orgasm is easy for you, it is also okay to want to feel even more satiated in experiences that are less goal-oriented and more savory — like a slow cooked meal vs. fast food. Speaking as a woman who didn’t know how to orgasm in sex for most of my life, or understand it to be an equal right for all, I now know it as such. If orgasming isn’t a part of your proficiency yet, it is well within your right to seek it out as something important, meaningful and fundamental to being human. It is okay to explore your own body to discover what works best for you, incorporate that with partners, acknowledge time needed for it to happen and ask for help achieving it. You have that right.  And, if orgasmic people (partners or otherwise) suggest to you it’s not important, you’re welcome to tell them to kindly fuck off. 🙂

 

Breezy Lover

Bundled up all winter, it’s easy to forget how sensual my body feels when it’s unencumbered,
open and exposed in nature;

On a break between client sessions,
I walk outside, take off my shirt, lift my skirt to my waist
and lay down on the old couch in my back yard.
Like a flower, my body turns slightly,
drawn towards the warmth of the sun and
I connect to the inhale and exhale of my breath.

As my belly rises and falls,
I feel a light breeze touch my legs,
dipping down between my thighs…
up and out again.
My body shivers, registering this surprise sensation.
My legs fall open, hoping it comes back.
As I wait, I notice a brush of air at my feet,
along my right arm, across my nipples and up my neck.
It’s dancing along my skin the way my lovers hands do.
My breath quickens.

The breeze swirls around my face,
taking a few strands of my hair with it.
I imagine the air as fingers lightly twirling my hair around them.
It feels so real, I’m tempted to open my eyes and see if anyone’s there.
But I don’t.
I keep on breathing.

The air stays still for what feels like minutes.
My body arches upwards, begging it to come back,
waiting and wondering where it will touch me next.
Then I feel it, like a soft exhale trailing along my breasts and stomach.
My breath stops.

The air loves to play.
My body loves being played with.
Feeling it’s delight, I wonder for a moment,
Is the air touching me or am I touching it?
It’s all perception.

I lay there, time irrelevant,
marveling at how the air knows exactly how to touch me,
as long as I’m present to feel it.
Like any great tease, I don’t want it to end
but eventually my timer goes off.
I put my clothes back on and
go back inside to meet my next client.

Cheeks flushed, body soft, smiling.
I wonder if they’ll see on me,
the face of a woman who just made love.

Goodbye My Lover, Bodysex

It’s the eve of my last Bodysex workshop and, even though I’m choosing to take a break from facilitating, it’s scary to not know if I’ll ever return to it. It feels like I’m saying goodbye to a lover that I’m still deeply in love with, but the relationship isn’t nourishing me in the ways it used to. I’m already feeling the grief of all that I’ll miss; the feeling of home in the circle, the honor of sitting beside women as they open, share and connect to their vulvas. Seeing and being seen fully, the orchestra of our self pleasure, the smell of sweat and pussy, Marika’s hand resting on my leg as we hold space, my head on Justine’s lap as we discuss how the weekend went, Patti’s bare bum sticking out from her apron as she cooks — and the absolute normalcy of all of it.

 

Two days later the workshop is finished and, filled with gratitude and love, I pack up my supplies for the last time. I can feel myself wanting to cling and hold on — just a bit — to one last touch of my lovers hand as I say goodbye. I don’t want to let go of the connections, the memories, the endless internal spiral of self confrontation, awareness and integration. One of the gifts of Bodysex is that the eyes of the other women are a mirror for me, always showing me what’s hard to see on my own. In that mirror I see in my grasp to hold on — the reason I’m letting go.

I’m not that same woman I was 8 years ago who sat shaking outside Betty Dodson’s apartment before my first Bodysex workshop — terrified that all the women in the circle would be shocked and disgusted by my naked body. I’m not the same woman who was so ashamed of her scarred and stretched stomach, that she spent years repeating the mantra over and over in her head before allowing a man to see her naked: “This is my body and I accept it. If he doesn’t accept it, he don’t accept me and he’s not my person.” And I’m certainly not the same woman who only had sex to please, keep the peace or in an attempt to feel loved.

Looking in the women’s eyes this weekend, I saw myself as a woman who feels most beautiful when I’m naked and surrounded by other women, in nature or locking eyes in intimacy with my husband (ideally all of the above! He he). I saw in myself that I accept and love my body — and recognize it as an illustration of my history, a creator and giver of life and source of infinite pleasure. I saw myself as a woman who now owns pleasure because it’s my inherent right as a human being and no longer finds it revolutionary to orgasm. I live and embody this right.

Driving away from Drummondville, I feel my fingers slip away from my beautiful lover Bodysex. I’ve been gently easing into this moment for months, with the same care and tenderness I took in preparing for my children to leave the nest. It doesn’t make it any easier, but I can feel excitement deep inside me at the possibilities of other paths I can explore. I wonder what will be different about the woman I am in another 8 years? What will she have learned that I haven’t yet? What parts of herself will she confront that are still hiding behind armor? What will she find that nourishes her the most? 

 

As the plane takes off, I close my eyes and imagine myself back in the circle with the 321 women who’ve shared it with me.  I smell the coconut oil, feel the warmth of their hands in mine and — all around me, I’m met with an abundance of love, acceptance and encouragement. With my eyes, my body and my heart,  I offer the same back to them. I hear Betty’s words whisper, “Natasha, the circle of sisters will always carry you, as long as you share your honest “I’s.” Goodbye for now my lover, Bodysex. This is my honest I.

Much love, appreciation and gratitude for Betty, Carlin, Patti, Justine, Marika and all of my Bodysex sisters.I love you.

Scraping Bottom (of my proverbial pile of shit)

The more Bodysex®  workshops I do, the more I’m reminded how far I’ve come since I started this journey nearly 7 years ago. For the first several years, each workshop brought about massive shifts in me — as if I was literally digging up a proverbial pile of steaming, hot, shit from deep inside myself and hauling it out to look at and take apart. Sometimes I’d feel rejuvenated for weeks after and, sometimes completely raw and wiped out. As time went on —I learned that I always survive the vulnerability of this excavation — and I started to notice things feeling lighter and easier. The big, old pile of shit got smaller and smaller leaving only remnants of shit to scrape up — shit that comes from no longer having these old burdens to weigh me down. Shit that arises from feeling so aligned with myself and my values that it feels impossible to follow my old way of pleasing others or accommodating myself to fit into what I think others want of me. Getting rid of that massive pile of shit, makes me ask myself “If I’m not looking for others approval as my guide to what’s right and wrong for me: What is actually right and wrong for me? What are my values?”

This past weekend in Quebec Bodysex® , I noticed remnants of my old pile of shit — particularly around shame in pleasure. Much of my work revolves around pleasure and mostly I know I have a right to it and I exercise that right all the time. I don’t feel shame in masturbation, pleasure with my partner, fantasy etc. however, I can see that I still have societal conditioning around where it’s appropriate and how that’s tied into the ways I imagine others view me. As we sat down for lunch on the first day of the workshop, one woman said “pleasure is reason enough.” I have probably said that 100 times before but hearing it from her really made me wonder if I actually believe it in all areas of my life. Cognitively yes I do, but do I know it with my whole heart and soul? Do I align with that in my life? Am I still caught in what others would think of me if I enjoy things solely for pleasure or if I actually seek things out for pleasure? We explored this idea a lot throughout the workshop through fantasy, juicy stories from our lives and self pleasuring together.  Those all felt very safe and comfortable for me because they fit in to what is already authentically aligned within me. 

Raised in a Christian home by a minister who felt shame for pleasure, I think (as is true for many of us) shame has been passed down in my lineage. I feel shame to share that I’m going on a trip to Mexico with my family this winter (and that I’m really  excited!), or to want a glass of wine on Friday night. I don’t feel shame in doing those things, I feel shame in wanting them because they’re pleasurable — like wanting things for pleasure is somehow wrong. I can feel shame that my touch at times might feel pleasurable to a client I’m working with in Intimacy Coaching, or that I might feel pleasure in their touch. On further reflection, I don’t feel shame that pleasure happens, I feel shame if I enjoy it.

Reflecting on my beautiful weekend in Quebec, and pondering all of this as I write, I can almost hear the metal shovel scraping the ground under this pile of shit. The pile isn’t big, these beliefs aren’t strong anymore, I know that pleasure heals and to feel it means I am present and alive and open and none of that is wrong — even though most of my life I was too shut off to feel it. I  am alive and open to feel with my Bodysex®  sisters, in dedicated time with my family, in sessions with my clients and in beautiful intimacy with my partner. I find it ironic that breaking down my conditioning has allowed me to be present enough to feel an enjoyment for pleasure itself and, that it’s in that very thing, that I feel the most shame.

Thank you to my Bodysex®  sisters who’s unconditional love and acceptance helped me to get rid of a bit more of my shit and remind me that Pleasure is reason enough. 

With love to:

Blossom, Wildy, Mangue Juteuse, Cock Licker, Heart, Mystery, Fantasia, Anahata, Rose, Happy Flower, Sunda, Papillon

 

 

Bodysex® Quebec: One Woman’s Experience

For anyone who wonders what a Bodysex® experience can be like, or about what I do and why it means so much to me, ….. here is a powerful testimonial from a woman who was in the circle with me this month in Quebec.

I have one spot left open in Bodysex® Saskatoon Nov. 26-28.

My challenge for the weekend was to free myself from my blockages in relation to pleasure and to reconnect with my body and its beauty, my beauty. I got naked, both physically and emotionally, in front of the magnificent group of women that we were. Still, that wasn’t the hardest part for me. It is rather to look at myself fully, straight in the soul and in the heart. Not just telling my story and the reasons why I had come to dislike my body, but rather looking at myself from within, in order to dust off and let the light in. There, I found love for myself, admiration and wonder for my body which carried life and which can now create differently. There, I found the desire to surrender to pleasure rather than get rid of it because of the fear of losing my balance. I reconnected with my senses and my inner joy. I was able to say “I am a woman in a sexual body and I have the right to pleasure”. By saying this sentence, I have freed myself from a socially accepted view of the female body and the stifling of its power. I chose to respect myself and name my wants and needs rather than accept everything with the fear of hurting. I also learned to love my vulva, despite or rather thanks to its difference. Natasha has helped a lot in this process, because she knows how to put us at ease.

A week after the workshop, I still feel beautiful, inside and out. I feel powerful, alive and grateful. I really needed this workshop, this feeling of deep and authentic connection with other women. Each of them came to enlighten a part of me through their shared experience. I found it so beautiful to feel that despite our sometimes very different life stories, we were all linked by similar aspirations and challenges. I recommend to all those who hesitate to participate in the Bodysex workshop to dare step out of their comfort zone and dive into the pleasure zone! No matter what level the job needs to be done, the weekend will take you in leaps and bounds towards greater happiness and better self-knowledge. I could go on and on talking about the workshop…I am so deeply grateful for Natasha and Marika for having led it by goddesses hands. Thank you for offering this space of transformation and liberation. Thank you for everything!”

For Betty Dodson (and the unknown farmer who bailed the hay)

I’m sitting in a farmer’s field about ten minutes from my home, naked, leaning against a hay bale. 

The wind is blowing my hair in crazy directions, and I imagine myself as one of those women in books who looks wild and free and you can just tell by her wind blown hair that she had some great orgasms that day …… and every day. 

My skin is brown from all the summer sunshine, and when I turn my legs towards it, I can see my blond thigh hair, shimmer like gold. 

A tampon string dangles from my vulva and I take it out, happy that I don’t need to worry about staining any sheets in this field. 

There are two tummy rolls at the bottom of my stomach and I place my hand over them, tracing the stretch marks that make a spiral pattern around my belly button. I think back to the words of the surgeon I went to years ago, who asked me why I wanted to change this part of my body. Closing my eyes and feeling the texture that the stretch marks offer my fingers, I give thanks that I didn’t —and imagine my beautiful children growing inside my belly — pushing and stretching my skin with their long limbs. 

My eyes move down to my vulva and I see my lips like the petals of a flower blooming in the morning sun. Encouraging them to bloom some more, I move my hand towards the petals and feel their softness. Years back I used to feel ashamed of how fully I bloom. Today, I don’t think there is a part of my body as beautiful as my pussy, and I promise to give her thanks every day for the plentiful gifts she offers me. 

I pleasure myself in this field — against the bail that I imagine the farmer put there just for me. A mom of 5 on her evening walk, with her dog who’s off chasing geese. 

I laugh as I cum, and afterwards, stand up and put my clothes back on to go back to the city, my home and my family. Seeing the wet spot on the ground I think with a smile, of the abundant crop the farmer will be blessed with next year. 

*****My orgasm and my words are dedicated with endless love, to Betty Dodson – my mama of pleasure on her 91st birthday today.