I Have a Spine


A lover and I once spent two hours trying to make my body reach this place that I knew I had felt before but just couldn’t seem to touch again. I was completely in my head, trying to figure it out, and I was so frustrated.

I felt broken. Why can’t I just let go? Why can’t I surrender to this moment and feel the thing I want to feel? I knew that other people could climax and get there easily, and I wanted that for myself. I knew there was something missing. That there was something more that I wasn’t able to get for myself using the same methods that I had been using. I didn’t know what it was, and I didn’t know how I would get there. 

If something feels broken, I want to fix it, so when a friend invited me to an Orgasmic Meditation event and said it might help, I went. I related to the stories people shared. Especially this one story a woman told about how she had suppressed her desire to the point that she couldn’t even hear it anymore. She had become numb to it. The numbness, the numbing out, really resonated with me. Before OM, I did a lot of things to not feel.

I would drink, watch TV, take pills, do anything that might give me a peaceful, calm feeling. I needed some type of sensory distraction to take myself out of just being present with my body. I guess you could say I had body issues. I didn’t feel good in my body; I didn’t want to be in it. I didn’t know what would give me pleasure, and I certainly didn’t know how to ask for it. But I did know how to go numb. 

The relationship model I grew up with was one of monogamy based on obligation rather than desire. I did a lot of things out of obligation, a lot of things I didn’t want to do. I felt like I needed to be in a committed partnership if I was going to be having pleasure. Anything outside of that made me feel guilty and shameful. 

My relationships felt formulaic, just trying to feel closer. I was mostly in my head, and it was mostly about the guy. My needs and desires weren’t important. I was caught in a cycle of deprivation, both inside and outside of relationship. I didn’t think I could have pleasure just for pleasure’s sake. 

My first OM was incredibly intense. It took a long time for me to get into the nest, but once I got in there, I was moved. The practice just took me over. I was in it and feeling the sensations. I remember my whole body was so oxygenated from breathing the way I was that tingles crawled across my forehead. Then my hands went stiff, and it was hard to move them. But I also felt like I was melting, like I had to harden before I could melt.

I think the part of OM that is most significant for me is the container. It helps me drop into the present moment, feel, and connect with my partner. I feel safe knowing that the practice is goalless, that the container is non-negotiable, that I don’t have to give anything in return, other than my presence. 

I’ve made a commitment to practice OM regularly, and the principles of OM have carried over into other parts of my life. I can ask for my tea just the way I like it now, the same way I can ask for just the stroke I want in the nest. If I feel someone pushing too hard towards a goal in an interaction, I can give them an adjustment. I have a spine. The parts of me that were frozen or hard have softened, and I’m no longer leading my life based on obligation. I’m being led by desire. It turns out, that’s a much more pleasurable way to live.