Housework, coffee breaks, and orgasms

I spent the morning cleaning. I don’t actually like cleaning, but thinking of how I was high up on the ladder cleaning windows, singing along to Allison Russel‘s album ‚The Returner‘ and shaking my butt as though no one was watching (though I’m pretty sure all those neighbors working in their gardens did) has me giggling. This is me. The new me. The one who truly does not give a damn about what anyone is thinking – well, most of the time anyway.

In these last few days I have had some pretty intense conversations with my body. The body that is so good to me and still gets reprimanded on a regular basis. Even after all this time. Even with all the knowledge I now have. My upbringing was pretty decent, but when it comes to my body, I would say that pretty much everyone around me failed. While the females I grew up amongst seemed to constantly try to loose weight, engaged in all sorts of diets and detox plans, the men had something to say about pretty much any female body there was. Skinny, so I believed, was the only thing to aspire towards and not eating any food for an entire day something to celebrate.

Skinny, so I believed, was the only thing to aspire towards and not eating any food for an entire day something to celebrate.

I have learned that this is bullshit. That it is my job to listen to my body, to nourish and take care of it. That I am perfect the way I am. On days I am high up singing on a ladder, I am ok with this. I almost believe it. However, there are those days when my hormones are all over the place, I wake up bloated and cannot fit into my jeans quite comfortably. Those are the days – and dare I say most of the days – I look into the mirror and don’t like what I see. The funny thing is that over the last few years, I have come to appreciate the female body in ways I never had before. I think we are gorgeous. Sexy. Stunning. Something to look at in astonishement, no matter what size, shape, or form. Bodysex has finally opened the door to looking at the female form in a new and healthy way. We are beautiful. All of us. Yet I struggle to find that voice inside myself that hands the compliments out to my ass – the one that does not fit the jeans. To my thighs – the ones that have started touching a while back already, without me getting used to the sensation. To my tummy – the one that has carried three beautiful children and deserves to be left alone, in loving peace. Why is it so hard to love my body? This question in itself is nervewrecking to me. So, in these last few days, I have started to try a different angle. I look at myself and smile. I take in every part of my body. Completely. With no judgement. My reflection, no judgement. It is so hard. So freaking hard. But it had me shaking my butt with pleasure and grace today, feeling nothing short of amazing and powerful. Loving my body is hard work, but it is so worth it.

"Yep, that’s exactly what I was in the mood for! Some visual stimulation, coupled with two amazing, slow, and almost luxurious orgasms. Just like that. Sex with myself. In the middle of the afternoon."

After cleaning windows, scrubbing floors and wiping out kitchen cupboards, I decided to take a little coffee break and check my emails. There was post from my Bodysex sister Katrina, who shared an erotic story she had written with her newsletter community. Her words made my vulva tingle and I quickly noticed, as I felt into my body, that I was up for a little playtime. What better to do to end a round of serious cleaning than some pleasure!? I breathed out and closed my eyes. What was I in the mood for? Erika Lust had also been in my inbox, which reminded me that it’s been a while since the last time I had watched porn. Yep, that’s exactly what I was in the mood for! Some visual stimulation, coupled with two amazing, slow, and almost luxurious orgasms. Just like that. Sex with myself. In the middle of the afternoon.

When I first answered the question on how I felt about my orgasm, the only feeling I recall is frustration. Lack. Anger. Desperation. Something I so badly wanted, but hardly ever got. Carlin taught me how to listen to my body. How to guide it to what it needed and how to take what I want. Looking back, I can hardly remember the nearly 40 year old woman who did not like sex, mostly because of a lack of climax. Needless to say, things these days are very different. I love having sex. With myself and with my partner.

This article and others on the topic of how we feel about our bodies and orgasms can be found on www.bodysex.com.

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