I Realized I Used to Lie A Lot

BY KYLIE MANCINI

The other day, I was putting up fliers at this new job I have. It’s a difficult job, and it’s required me to move away from a lot of the people and things I’m connected to. Honestly, I want to be living near my old community right now, with friends, but instead I’m living alone in a hotel room in Westchester County. I’m feeling a little isolated and disconnected.

But anyway, I was putting up these fliers, and I feel this deep isolation, and suddenly I heard a voice inside my head saying, “This is not normal. You need to be medicated.” Wow, I thought. Do I? But then I heard another voice, louder, saying, “Honey, you do not need to be medicated. This is a normal reaction to being lonely. Isolation, disconnection; they’ve just been normalized in the world, and you’re not used to it. You don’t need pills, you need connection. Go OM.”

I’ve always been lonely, I think. Before discovering OM, I was always obsessed with doing everything right, being spiritual and ascended-- and better than everyone else. Looking back, I was just super lonely. I always felt a little different, and I think I struggled with finding my people. It caused a lot of anxiety.

My parents were super loving and open, to the extent that even when I was like, 15, my mom would let me have boyfriends over to spend the night. Obviously, there were rules—we had to sleep on the floor, there had to be other friends over too, that sort of stuff. When I asked my mom about it, she would tell me that she wanted me to have the experience of intimacy. Never feel like there was something wrong or shameful about it, even if I was only 15. And yet, I was lonely.

My mom and my dad were both pretty open around sex. They were loving and supportive. And yet I still came away with a lot of sexual shame that I carry around. My mom is actually the person who introduced me to Orgasmic Meditation. I remember she started practicing when I was 19. When I asked her about it, she told me about it in a way that was digestible and appropriate. I came away not knowing much more than that I thought she was super weird. And then I saw her life open up. I saw her change in such powerful ways. She quit her job, separated from my father, sold the house.  

When I tried OM myself for the first time with my then-partner, one of the first things I learned was that I was a liar. My whole life, one of my core values had been truth. ‘I always tell the truth,’ I’d told myself. Those first OMs felt choppy, difficult, confronting, and enlightening. They felt like I’d been lying to myself, somehow. I was shocked and scared. And so, I worked on it. I’m still working on it. After OM, I can say I know what I want, and I have higher standards. 

A big part of that was learning to tell the truth about what I want. It took me 11 months before I could make a proper adjustment. But since then, I can make adjustments everywhere. I realized I used to make little passive aggressive remarks to people instead of coming out with the truth. Someone would bring me a glass of water with two lemon wedges in it instead of the one I asked for, and I’d be like, “Oh, thanks. That’s a lot of lemon…” Now, I can thank them, with a whole heart, but still ask them to please bring me one lemon wedge next time. It seems small, but it’s not.

In an OM, when I make an adjustment, my stroker says, “Thank you.” They say it with their whole heart. It lets me know that men want to show up for me. They want me in my truth. That’s where our connection lies: in raw, intimate honesty. I’ve been dating someone, and I never thought to do this before, but I was completely honest with him that I don’t want a boyfriend right now. Not in the meet-my-parents, Facebook-official sort of way. I built a container around the relationship, and I built it with honesty.

That honesty might be the biggest thing I’m missing right now. I feel tortured by the idea that I need to shut some part of myself off to be professional and do my job in a way that’s appropriate. Where does this weird shame come from even? My parents were so open. Does it come from the culture? 

I’m struggling right now, but I’m so happy I have that second voice to listen to. I’m so happy I can pause and understand the anxiety in my body as a fiery, hot sensation down my spine, not something that requires I be institutionalized. I’m really young, and I don’t have all the answers. But I’m so, so thankful that in OM, I have the tools.