This article originally appeared as a guest blog on Rachel Grant Coaching.
I’ve always been an honest person. To a fault, really. Ask me a question, and I would shower you with utter precision of every detail.
I’ve also been a liar.
You see, I had this idea that I had to sell a perfect image of myself. A woman with everything under control. An intelligent over-achiever. I prided myself for being “the kind of woman that does it all and does it well”.
I had wanted to be accepted and loved, so logically, I created a curated package of who I think I need to be to receive that love.
There were things that did not fit into that package, and so I lied. I lied about my emotions and what I really felt, in fear that people would not know how to handle me. I lied about my disappointments and fears, frightened that I would come across as weak and unworthy. I lied about my true desires because it meant exposing myself to rejection – or worse, ridicule. And, I lied to myself, thinking I was doing what I needed to do to be a good woman.
On the outside, my life was a résumé of achievements and carefully-orchestrated moves.
On the inside, I held back every part of my inner being as if I were holding my breath.
This kind of lying was so deeply engrained into my psyche that it naturally seeped into my sex life. Sex had become yet another place where I needed to stylize my moves and curate my image to cover up the slew of insecurities beneath.
I did not know how to ask for what I wanted, and over time, the resentment built up. Sex became lackluster, and the relationships deteriorated. All the while, I was obsessed with: What if my partner finds out what I really feel? What if he knows that I want something else (and does it mean I don’t like him)? What if he judges me?
Saying the truth is vulnerable. Society’s conventions require us to keep what we really feel inside in the name of not hurting others, protecting them from the truth, keeping peace, being liked, and often protecting ourselves from those who might have malicious intent.
Expressing what I wanted in sex and how it made me feel was unfathomable. Because it meant that I would have to bring my guard down and take a risk, be vulnerable. I would have to allow my partner in. And it was unfathomable when I was cowering underneath the beliefs about myself that I am unattractive, weak and unworthy. It was too risky.
But the cost was too high.
Holding back my truth and asking for what I wanted was costing my energy and life force. It was as if I was ashamed of being me.
And it went deeper. It cost me my aliveness and my connection with my body. It took so much energy to pretend and lie – to keep myself in the secure and safe cocoon of my made-up image – that I had little energy for anything else. Especially for connecting with another.
Withdrawing from sexual connection was my only way out.
My own path to learning to speak my truth – the truth of my experience – was through Orgasmic Meditation (OM), the partnered sexuality practice that I practice and I teach.
There is nowhere to hide in an OM. When a stroker’s undivided attention is on me and the most sensitive part of my body, telling the truth becomes more than just saying the words.
My body speaks louder than me. I cannot pretend to get off or cover up dissatisfaction with moaning because he will feel my body tighten and withdraw. If my intention or attention is on impressing my partner and not on my own pleasure, he will feel our connecting waning. He can also feel my body open and expand when I am true to my desires and emotions.
My body responds directly to how truthful I am willing to be.
That is the scariest aspect of OM – and the most powerful. When I have nowhere to hide, I have to drop my escape mechanisms and surrender. The practice has taught me to listen to my body and be true to it in all its form - its desires and truth.
OM has also taught me how to be authentic to what is deeply true for me – not by avoiding vulnerability, but by going deeply into it. To tell the truth despite the consequences of being judged or rejected. To be myself. And to build relationships based on connection and truth, instead of posturing and withholding, or trying to sell a bill of goods.
The second you withhold, the relationship suffers.
~ Nicole Daedone
There is another amazing benefit of telling the truth: it’s a turn-on.
Telling that deep truth – the one that has you squirm when you think about it - has the same visceral effects as sexual turn-on: heightened heart rate, tingling in your body, sweaty palms, and increased blood flow to genitals.
Because telling the truth is about being vulnerable and allowing others to see you. It’s about your sexuality and how comfortable you are being you and expressing who you are. It’s about freedom to live an integrated life, inside and out.
Want to try it? When you hear a little voice in your head, telling you “I cannot say t h a t”, go ahead and say it. And notice what happens in your body. Tread lightly at first and build up to bigger truths slowly. And remember, this is not about whacking the other person with some big revelation. It’s about you being open and honest about who you are.
Telling the truth is about opening up to let others see us deeply, at the most profound level of who we really are. It’s about intimacy and connection, a conversation between one soul and another.
And from the beginning, that's all I had ever wanted.