I had given up my wants, needs, and desires to dysfunctional men most of my life and learning to OM helped me to anchor myself firmly in my own desires and to a life I love.
Four years ago in London, I attended a workshop to discover key chapters in my life story. As we explored, I was stunned by a sudden realization that I had had two near-death experiences by 1-1/2 years old. I reeled from the flood of feelings as I pictured the baby dying alone on a cold basement floor. No wonder I had clung to relationships well after they became destructive. Time and again, I gave myself up to toxic men. From 17 to 33, I was never without one. All great guys except when they drank, snorted coke, or picked up tarts at bars.
I blamed alcohol or rationalized their affairs as slips. They weren’t. I convinced myself our sex would keep him around. It didn’t. The terror of being alone haunted me more than the horror of living with a drunk or a reckless cheat, until I could no longer stand the emotional wreckage that was my life.
Al-Anon sobered me up to my addiction to men. Rather than go through that again, I’d rather stay single forever. Stray encounters felt like submitting to a human vibrator—he pulsed, but lacked emotional connection. I relied on my beguiling sexuality to secure a scrap of attention. It never occurred to me that my orgasm mattered.
Then, I met my husband on a sacred journey in Peru. The magic was clear. We followed the same spiritual path, shared many hilarious moments and he did not drink. Our vigorous sex secured the bond. We moved in together to three months of bliss—until his pornography addiction became glaringly obvious. I rationalized that porn was relatively harmless and after years alone this might be the best life had to offer. As with past relationships, I’d settle for a warm embrace, sharing ideas and company. Why had I attracted another addict?
On the flight back from London, I pondered my life’s next chapter. A marriage that had devolved into scathing hostility, cold indifference, and a sexless bed was not written there. Things had to change.
They did, early the next morning. The roll-up blind flung shut, jolting me awake and alerting me to sobs on the third floor. My errant husband confessed his soulmate was a woman half his age—he was turning 50. (Do the math.) A day after confronting my soul searing abandonment fears, my presumed life partner announced he was leaving.
I blamed him. He had the problem. I was such a fabulous wife. I twisted myself into a pretzel to accommodate his wishes, while perpetually waiting for mine. I was still waiting 12 years in.
One night at a dinner party, a friend leaned over and confided, “If I can ask a stranger to stroke my clit exactly the way I want, I can ask for anything, including my boss for a raise. I did and he gave it to me.”
That statement was so extraordinary, I signed up to learn how to OM the next day.
Divorce in hand, I felt ready to find a husband who, this time, would be more attentive. Orgasmic Meditation class would be just the place. I scanned the room and panicked. ‘Oh dear. I couldn’t even date these men.’ I told myself I didn’t have to marry them, just try the practice.
As soon as his finger touched my clitoris, I could feel the energy run through my body, bathing my nerves. Instantly, I knew the technique was real. Afterwards, I dressed and hurried for the door. He tried asking me out and I answered, “Just the OM. Nothing extra.”
Wow, I felt powerful responding to my desire; not jumping to accommodate his. This was all new.
Saying yes to the 15-minute clit stroking practice woke me up to beliefs that no longer served me. For awhile, I only OMed several times a month. I had expected men to ask me to OM. I waited, in much the same way I had waited for my ex-husband to fulfill my unspoken desires. After waiting days then weeks for strokers to invite me to OM, I once again, concluded I would have to settle for whomever came along.
My arrogance covered up how fearful I was of being touched by a stranger, how scared I was of my desires being rejected, and of never having what I wanted.
If OMing was a desire-based practice, what did I desire? Men I found attractive, obviously. I barely mustered enough courage to ask and they repeatedly said, “No, thank you.” Whoa! I had never had an issue attracting men. What was going on?
Trial and error, coaching and deep introspection helped me discover how disconnected I was from my desires, and how I had been requesting OMs on top of deep fear of rejection. Wow. This was a huge discovery. I quickly shifted my focus to my desire to OM and asked from there. Suddenly, OM partners started saying yes, and many began asking me.
When I would lie down for an OM, I was hyper-vigilant about where the stroker’s fingers were at all times. Any slight straying from the point of most sensation on my clit—my spot—and I would make sure to instantly adjust him back onto my spot. If he missed, and went too far in the other direction, it would always be this debate in my mind about how long I needed to wait before I could ask for another adjustment. I noticed I would only allow myself to have so much of my desire. When was I asking for too much? I thought somehow he must know better than me. Yet I knew the sensation on my clitoris felt off. I noticed once again I was more focused on whether I might offend him than really getting into the flow of the OM, than really surrendering to the orgasmic energy. I noticed that was my way of trying to control the intimacy.
The more I asked for OMs, and asked for adjustments in my OMs, the more I learned to trust what my body was telling me and the more I gained power to take charge of my life. I no longer made my feelings and desires contingent on someone else’s. Now, I say yes to the OM, not the person.
This pattern transferred to all areas of my life. The more clear my desires when I’d ask for something, the more people said yes to my requests. Despite how it had seemed, my life was never about settling for what came along. I had tried to derive pleasure from pleasing my man, but OM taught me to anchor myself directly in my own desires and to take responsibility for my own pleasure and all of my choices.
Three years later, OM’s soothing quality has relaxed my nervous system so much that I started to attract kind and generous men. Orgasmic energy flowing through my system acts as a tonic. My feelings are so honed, I trust my intuition as I sense into someone else’s system.
Instead of using sex to try to secure connection, I feel more connected to myself. My intuition connects me to others, and my actions align with my higher purpose. OM expanded my awareness to ever subtler sensations, and provided an unequivocal sense of wellbeing. My healing continues, and I feel free. I trust my senses to tell me what is real. OM is my guide as this chapter unfolds moment by moment.
See Carole tell her story here
Carole Vaporean is a divorced writer, editor, and relationship coach living in New York City.