I Am More Soft, Open, & Vulnerable

BY AGNETA SORENSON

People see me as a conventional, polite, good-looking Danish woman. When I was younger, people would say things like, “Oh you’re such a nice, well-behaved, pretty girl.” It would piss me off, but I’d never say anything. Growing up, I wasn’t very talkative. I wouldn’t say what I was thinking. It’s an old habit from my upbringing. Everyone kept their problems to themselves. We couldn’t just have a fight and get it over with. So, I was frightened of getting angry.

In some ways, my family was open about sexuality. Nakedness was normal. But there was also an awkwardness around it. I sometimes felt my mom was forcing the openness, that she didn’t feel completely at peace with it. My parents didn’t walk around kissing each other and holding hands. I don’t think they were happy together. Eventually, they got divorced. Later, in relationships, I held back and tried to fix problems myself. There’d be a distance between me and my boyfriends, and then I’d obsess about them in my head. It wasn’t very fulfilling, and eventually, we’d split up.  

A friend introduced me to Orgasmic Meditation. I loved that they were so deep and open. There was no chit-chat. It was like, ‘Boom! Bang!’ straight into the subject that matters! The idea of stripping off my clothes below my waist made me nervous, but my friend persuaded me to try. The first few times, I was very tense and shut down, way in my head. It felt like being at the doctor’s! I didn’t experience anything like pleasure. But then I started to do it more often, building up to five times a week. I felt so much energy. I needed less sleep. And I started saying things I’d held back before.

I’m a psychotherapist. At work, I’d usually just listen to my boss, think he was an idiot, and not say anything about it. Now, I started to say what I actually thought, and to my surprise, he agreed with me! It happened with other people, too. I’d disagree with someone, and I’d say it, and it would be positively received.

For the first time in my life, I felt true intimacy. I felt my OM partner on a whole new level. I noticed that sometimes, during the OM, I wouldn’t even have to say, “Go on this side or that side,” or, “go slower,” because he’d know where to stroke me, without me even having to say it. Afterwards, we’d look at each other, and he’d know exactly what I was thinking before I’d say anything.

Sometimes, I have really sensational OMs where my genitals feel open and hot, and the feeling spreads out to my whole body in undulating waves. Electricity from my genitals flows through my arms and legs and shoots out of the palms of my hands—like if you put your finger in a socket. It feels exciting and energizing and joyful. When I’m tense, the energy just stays in my vulva. I don’t feel anything. It feels as if the stroker is stroking my arm as opposed to my clitoris!

After I’ve had one of the more joyful and energizing OMs, I feel as if I’ve just been immersed in nature and really gotten in touch with myself. I feel present in the here and now and not spinning around. After a while, I feel a need to do something with all that energy. If it doesn’t get out of me, it can get messy. So, I do biking, yoga, or swimming to keep the flow in a well-regulated state.

I’m not in a relationship right now, but I’m happy about that. I’m texting one guy who lives far away, and I’m seeing some other lovers. I’ve become more open and curious. I’ve allowed myself to be with women and even have threesomes. Some of my friends have said things like, “I’ve noticed that you’re more open about what you’re feeling and your emotions are more on the outside.” With my mother, I’ve found it easier for me to bring something positive to her negativity. And I feel more able to leave her place when I can’t take anymore.

As I’ve become more advanced in my OM practice, I’ve noticed that some spots on my clitoris can make me feel euphoric, while other spots make me feel nauseous, and still others feel a little like pain—sort of itchy and stinging. Sometimes, I ask for a lighter touch when I’m being stroked there, but sometimes I feel it’s teaching me to embrace all of myself. Things don’t have to be pretty and nice and good all the time. It’s sometimes desirable to embrace the ugly parts of myself, too. I’m getting more relaxed around not having to be pretty. Some days, I feel like, “I want to walk around in these ugly pants today, and I don’t want to put my hair up.” And that feels good to me.

In a recent OM, I cried for nearly the whole 15 minutes. I felt a lot of heat in my head and the upper part of my body and felt tension in my muscles. I’ve learned that I store a lot of sadness in the tension in my muscles. Usually it comes out as anger, but sometimes I can relax enough to switch from anger to sadness. That’s what makes me cry.

I admit I’m still not great at asking men for adjustments when we’re OMing. And I still hold back on making some noises I really want to make when I feel excited. But I’m getting better at it, and I’m enjoying the learning process.

OM has taught me to be more open, soft, and vulnerable—in all the various definitions of vulnerability. I feel as if I’m getting better at bringing my true self out. I’m more open to new things. My connection with my patients is better than it’s ever been. I was always good at connecting with my patients, but now I notice that they open up faster. I feel it’s because of a new presence that I have, thanks to OM. I’m more relaxed and open. I’m less rigid. I ask better questions because I follow my intuition more. I feel into my patients. I’m not just using my head; I’m using my heart, using my body, using my whole system. This is pretty much true everywhere in my life.