Thursday, September 17, 2015


I hadn't had a really good fuck in months. And I'd been a bit of a mess, if you must know-- agitated, unduly short-tempered and had taken to drinking obscene amounts of Diet Pepsi (a vice I supposedly kicked years ago). My work suffered and I was prone to random outbursts of weeping. I was, in short, hysterical. In both the current understanding of the word and, possibly, the 19th century sense.

Yes, hysteria.

Sure, maybe it was hormones, maybe it was a chemical imbalance, maybe I needed more Vitamin B or something, but I really do think it was/is hysteria. Something related to my body and my passion and my heart.

Your pussy is your pilot light. It is your central life force energy,” says Pamela Madsen, a woman who says "pussy" a lot and someone I interviewed for an AlterNet article. “If our pilot light is lit and we're turned on--that's were we write our books from, that's where we bake from, that's where we decide to be farmers or artists. We can learn to use that power and put it out into the world."

And as Naomi Wolf writes in my well-fingered Vagina (haha, yes, I know, I am a child) "Female sexual pleasure, rightly understood, is not just about sexuality or just about pleasure. It serves also, as a medium of female knowledge, and hopefulness; female creativity and courage; female focus and initiative; female bliss and transcendence; and as medium of a sensibility that feels very much like freedom. To understand the vagina properly is to realize that it is not only coexistence with the female brain, but is also, essentially, a part of the female soul.” 

It feels like they're on to something big here (as are Anais Nin, Erica Jong, etc...)--something primal and true. In my own life, I've discovered this amazing passion which is, for better or worse, wholly connected with sex, my creativity, my body and my heart. When my passion is engaged, it is beautiful, sublime and yeah, scary as fuck. When it's not, all is meh, or worse (see above: hysteria.)

And while it pleasingly tragic to haunt your own life like a specter, or as Billy Bragg puts it "a little black cloud in a dress," after a while weeping in the car to Joni Mitchell's "All I Want" grows tiresome. So I did stuff to heal* and my humours, or whatever, seem more balanced now.

And yet.

In Madsen's fascinating book Shameless: How I Ditched the Diet, Got Naked, Found True Pleasure...and Somehow Got Home in Time to Cook Dinner, she talks about seeking sensual touch--something similar to a "happy ending," but for women. She ends up with a gay male bodyworker named Tiger who, despite his semi-repellent name, sounds quite amazing. He tends to her body and psyche and, like a human Pandora, knows what she wants before she does. He's like the best lover ever, but also not a lover. He's somewhere in between lover, therapist, massage therapist, and magic fairy godmother.

Sexological bodyworkers give whole body massages to help you get....wherever you need to get. And I mean that in the prurient way--if you want/need to cum, you are certainly welcome to and will be aided in that way--but it's mainly about exploring issues in your life, your sexuality or general spirit. In a way, it's a more loving and aware descendant of Ye Olde hysteria treatment.

I put out the call on the IBWMW Facebook page (Now 97% less tawdry since I purged it of weirdos!) and Matthew told me he did Tantric Bodywork. I'd met Matthew years ago on my blog, which is probably a horrible place to meet anyone--not as bad as the Facebook page, but still... I knew him, but didn't know him, which seemed just about right for this kind of thing.

He gave me the password to his secret web page (email him and I'm sure he will be happy to do the same for you). Writes Matthew:

Tantric bodywork is a beautiful and brave act of care and self-care. If and when you decide to receive this type of touch and attention it is an acknowledgment of yourself as a sexual person regardless of your sexual preferences or the level of sexual activity in your life. This choice shows an openness to be present with yourself and your body in a space it may not always have a chance to inhabit. I think that's pretty fearless choice, and it's a pleasure and privilege for me to be a guide, facilitator and space holder for you or you and your partner.

I love doing this work and am moved to do it because I adore the deep humanity of it. A chance to deeply see people and be seen at their most raw and most tender and to show up the same way. I am moved by the power of sexual energy in all of its forms and wild expressions. I am captivated by the mysterious and sacred power of sexual energy to shift what longs to be moved inside us and in so doing heals and connects us.

Um...yes. When women go to spas, shop, drink too much, inject fillers into their face, etc...this is what they actually want.

So, I am going to meet with Matthew and for two hours he is going to talk to me and touch me in a present, sensual way.** I have no idea what's gonna happen. I think I will probably cry or come or maybe just be in my head and be anxious. Female desire can be scary. When you tap into it, it's such a huge overwhelming life force—intense, emotionally overpowering and not something you can manage. You're not in halfway. And the only way to work with it is to ride it and see where it takes you, accepting that it may take you places you didn't think you wanted to go.

I don't know what the fuck will happen and that's part of what's so good about it. I want to be in that space and see where it takes me. I feel completely confident that whatever does come up, Matthew can handle it.

So yeah, I'm meeting a virtual stranger, alone, and I will be completely naked. In all kinds of ways. It may be the smartest thing I've ever done or the dumbest.

And I can't fucking wait.


*Stuff I did to heal: Ate well, swam, started seeing a therapist (a delightfully masturbatory activity--I highly recommend!), took long walks with my daughters, talked to my husband, read good books (next up: Erica Jong's new book Fear of Dying!) and got down with my new toy thing (we are now going steady. If it had a varsity jacket, I'd be wearing it.) I've started looking for connection and depth in my encounters with whoever I come across in my day and I got the best fucking kitten in the world.

**The amazing thing about being a writer--you get to do whatever the fuck you want under the pretense of it being a story! It's total racket!

Jack the kitten, consulting the Oracle


in bed with married women said...

how the hell do 3 of you already "like" this? you haven't even read it yet. get back in there!

cegluna said...

I admire your chutzpah and look forward to reading the follow up :)
PS Love your kitty!

caitlingrace said...

I am well overdue for a good(purely medicinal) fuck. I love the fact that I can ( and do) email my husband such awesome blog posts as this and let him know that NOW is a good time. NOW ( damnit!)I loved this post and read Pamela's book aaaaaggggeeess ago. I also love Erica Jong and must hunt up more of her books.

in bed with married women said...

cegluna, chutzpah, yes, thanks! will let you know what goes down.

caitlin, do let me know if you do it!

Anonymous said...

Another "10" Jill. Now we, (your faithful fans) have to start nagging you to write a book. You yourself said it: It's a total racket!
At this point I will share a discussion I had about your impending journey with my wife.
Me: "Do women ever want to hire a man for and hour or two to just be a sex object?"
wife: "Oh hell NO. Any woman can have a man any time she wants one all she has to do is look at him"
Clearly women have much easier intimate lives than we men do.
Kudos dearest and keep writing! your sharing has moved me to send you a short story.

The Bun said...

Eagerly awaiting the followup... even if a woman can have a man anytime she wants, as the above anon's wife said, whether the man knows what he's doing is another matter entirely.

(Also, OMGKITTEN! He looks like what I think my LokiCat must have looked like as a kitten - same markings - and his name on the shelter website happened to be Jack as well. He started out a friendly, inquisitive, rough-and-tumble little fluffball, and at age 11, he's now a friendly, inquisitive, rough-and-tumble large fluffball. I salute you, fluffball kitten Jack!)

in bed with married women said...

Anonymous, thanks, man! And I will look in my email--if I dare.

The Bun, And How!, as they said on the Little Rascals, though not on the subject of properly lady-pleasing hands. and my jack is sooo rough and tumble, like a fluffy ball of ultra-violence.

Trisha said...

LOVE THIS. I happen to be working on an upcoming post just today about the book Vagina, and I literally said out loud that it was a damn shame that Naomi Wolfe didn't actually engage (well fully engage) in any of the body work from the people she talked with. I mean, she's writing about it, why not try it out! You are awesome.

in bed with married women said...

Trisha, that means tons to me coming from you. now that you mention that part of the book, i remember thinking that too. i'm gonna re-look it up. just re-checked the book out of the library, and of course while carrying it around happened to see a neighbor i don't know very well. sure wish it didn't say VAGINA in such big letters on the front there.

Anonymous said...

On the edge of my seat!

Unknown said...

I stumbled upon this and loved it ~ Thanks for the insight I have found my new favorite blog :-)