The “Hazards” of Being an Orgasmic Woman. {Adult} ~ Candice Holdorf

Via on Jun 29, 2012

There’s a beast inside of me right now.

She’s been neglected for a very, very long time. She’s pissed, starving and demands to be fucked.

If she’s like many women I know, she’s a sexual anorexic. This is not to be confused with a sexually hungry person. A sexually hungry person knows what they want and will do what they need to feed themselves (even if it’s living off Ramen Noodles for a while). A sexual anorexic, on the other hand, has too much pride to admit she’s hungry and gets off on having superior control. She looks down on all those creepy guys in the Tenderloin who stare at you as if you were a dripping, succulent steak. She’s fresh-faced, wholesome and hops straight off the cover of Cosmo in her size two Prada dress.

All that changes when you open your orgasm.

Many guys joke when they hear about it.

Geez, I wish my wife/girlfriend had that problem of wanting to be fucked all the time.

Really? Most men don’t know how to handle a woman when she’s in the throes of indecision of what to order for dinner. You want to throw a 20-plus year backlog of unexpressed desire, anger, resentment and trauma into the mix? Good luck.

The current perception of igniting a woman’s sex comes attached with pink feather boas, blossoming flowers and psychedelic rainbows shooting from vaginas. There also seems to be this annoying penchant for the word “juicy.”

Let me set the record straight: forget Barbie and her Sex and the City entourage. Say hello to your dirty, skanky heroin addict.

The other day I woke up in the grips of this otherworldly thing that demanded climax and would stop at nothing to get it. I had just enough consciousness to acknowledge the beast and created the space for her to emerge—and then I plunged pussy-first into the darkness.

I did something I haven’t done in years—I watched porn. Now that may not sound like anything shocking, but what was powerful for me to observe was how utterly helpless I felt in the moment. I needed the drug so bad that I wasn’t going to step out of my room until I had it. I grabbed my phone (which was closer to me than my computer) and searched for “free porn.” I found a video, but when it took too long to download, I gave up and ran for my laptop like it was sexual crack. With shaking hands I flipped up the monitor, typed in my password and found what I needed. The Visitor, Part Three.

“I don’t give a shit about parts one & two,” I said to myself. “I just want to get straight to the cock-in-pussy pounding.”

Three minutes later, after I had climaxed, a little bit of reality started to settle back into me. My belly felt swollen, like I’d just wolfed down three Big Macs. I was watching this video of two people clearly not connected to each other. And it was set to some of the worst music I’ve ever heard in my life. I started laughing at myself.

“Have I really become that kind of person?” I thought. “I feel more like a scared, pre-teen boy than a 31-year old woman.”

Then it hit me: this was who was rising to the surface—my hyper-sexual teenager—and she was pissed at being chained in the basement for so long.

There was a period in my life, from ages 11-13, when I would masturbate almost every day. Yet in the midst of that sexual exploration, I also felt profound levels of shame. I saw members of my family struggle with sexual addiction and unhealed sexual abuse. I grew up in the South where young, Christian ladies didn’t do things like that. I had heard boys joke about masturbation all the time, but girls never talked about it. I thought I was a pervert—and yet I couldn’t stop.

Until I was 13 years old and got suspended from school for drug possession. I will never forget the pain on my mother’s face when she got the news. I felt like this horrible, out-of-control animal that had brought shame upon her. A straight-A student fallen from grace. I made a vow that day to suppress anything that was “wrong” or “immoral”—which included my sexual appetite.

Fast forward eight years. I’m 21 years old and I’ve just started dating the man I would eventually marry (who was, incidentally, also the first man with whom I’d had intercourse). I’m away for the summer and I meet someone else—someone who rouses that slumbering beast within me. And I fuck him. And again, I feel like this out-of-control animal. And again, I make a decision to tamp down that wretched appetite. I can’t bear to see the look of pain on my soon-to-be husband’s face.

So for the six-year duration of my marriage, I buried that secret along with my shame and my sex. It’s also no surprise that for those six years, I lived as an anorexic. If history had taught me anything, it was this:

Appetite = People Getting Hurt

But in the back of my mind, I knew that starving it wouldn’t help. In fact, the harder I pushed it down, the harder it smacked me in the face the moment my attention drifted elsewhere. I had to confront it head on. So I left the marriage and decided I would do whatever it took to recover from anorexia.

The months following the separation from my husband were some of the most humiliating of my life. I felt so insecure sexually that I seduced men just to prove to myself that I could, even though I was clueless about my own desires and hadn’t menstruated in over two-and-a-half years. I cried for five months straight. I found myself, on many occasions, standing in my kitchen pantry at 3 a.m. gobbling three or four bowls of cereal in a row, not even tasting what I was shoving into my face.

Yet through it all, I knew I was giving my body exactly what it needed. When you hold a pendulum all the way to the left, it has to swing all the way to the right and back again, multiple times, before it finally finds its center.

And this is how it feels right now in my sex. In spite of the junk-food orgasm and the predator-woman who is ready to jump on anything in her path, I simply have to trust how the path is unfolding before me. It feels like I’m going down again, only this time the well is deeper. I have fear of losing everything: my money to the credit card company; my credibility to people who know what they hell they are doing; my fiancé to a younger, skinnier, more sexually-embodied tantric goddess.

And here’s kicker: even with all this sexual appetite, I’m bumping right up against my ineptitude. It’s still so difficult for me to ask for what I want. It’s painful to admit to my lover when I’m faking my own turn-on. It’s agonizing to watch as I lie and withhold my love and gratitude again and again and again.

I recently had someone tell me that fucking me was boring. Boring!?

Dear God. Tell me I’m crazy. Tell me I’m out-of-control. Tell me I’m too much to handle. But boring?!?! With my ego thoroughly eviscerated, I had reached a new low.

So this is orgasm in its rawest form. And I am so pissed that our society has no support system for women in this space. If I want to lose 10 pounds in 10 days or discover five mind-blowing tricks for giving head, all I need to do is check out the magazine section of my local Walgreen’s. But down here, there’s no sparkly glitter parades or rose-scented sheets. Just a searing burn and unbearable pressure as I sit in the crucible of my sex.

And yet, as I sit here, the words of Anais Nin rise to the surface:

And the day came when the risk to remain tight in a bud was more painful than the risk it took to blossom.

And I’m reminded of why I chose this path and how lucky I am to feel alive. Those lonely, numb nights of starving madness are a place I can never return. Now that I’ve had a taste of what’s possible—electric connection, expanded love and deep pleasure—I have no choice but to burn on.

This is what it takes to move from the chains of bondage to orgasmic freedom. The real sexual revolution doesn’t happen by burning bras or holding onto anger; it happens in our minds, our hearts, our pussies. It happens when we come to know (and surrender to) our own desires. And it’s waiting for us, whenever we’re ready.

Just don’t say I didn’t warn you.

~

Author’s Song Selection (A Much Better Alternative to the Average Porn Soundtrack): Woman in Chains by Tears for Fears

Editor: Lynn Hasselberger

Like elephant journal gets sexy on facebook.

About Candice Holdorf

Candice Holdorf is currently working on her book, “From 6 to 9 and Beyond: Widening the Lens of Feminine Eroticism.” You can pre-order your copy here. She is a writer for elephantjournal and The Good Men Project, as well as a performer and public speaker specializing in desire, sexuality and Orgasmic Meditation. She is also a former yoga teacher and recovering anorexic who has discovered that there is tremendous power inside of hunger. Find out more about Candice on her blog, follower her on Twitter, Facebook and YouTube

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42 Responses to “The “Hazards” of Being an Orgasmic Woman. {Adult} ~ Candice Holdorf”

  1. DAYAMN CANDICE – outrageously naked raw true relatable non-juicy REAL. Thank YOU!

  2. Josh says:

    Don't even know what to say, but wow. Touching, inspiring, moving, and I'm a guy! I'd want what you're going through for every woman I know.

    • So wonderful to hear that it touched you…yes I want women (and men) to walk through the fire of their orgasm AND it is my desire that we learn to support each other on the path. Many blessings!

  3. Lil ele sis, this is the start of your book by the same title. :-) I wanted chapter two. hugs

  4. Freya Watson singingflute1 says:

    Wonderfully raw and touching, Candice. Brought me back a bit and touched nerves that still twinge (thankfully!). :) x

  5. Devi Ward says:

    I think one of the reasons that women are so sexually starved aside from the subconscious sexual repression is the fact that we rarely get F**ked as well as we need and should. The average tie of penetration is 2-7 minutes, and so for many women, they are just starting to move to into 2nd gear when their partner ejaculates and it's over. This happening once or twice would be slightly frustrating. The fact that this is over 90% of women's experience their entire lives, leaves a society of sexually ravenous women who just seriously need some good solid deep frackin'. Prince has a saying" I'd like to fuck the taste out of your mouth." I can relate.

    • JoeC2K says:

      I just busted out laughing from your comment and not because I thought it was funny but how utterly truthful it is! Just from my own experience, and don't think that I'm just bragging or have some ulterior motive here, I gave a nice lady a good solid deep frackin', as you say, and it was down-right scary for me to see her come alive… like she was awakening after a long slumber and realized how hungry she was. It was me a surreal experience… after reading this article I guess she was a sexual anorexic.

  6. Susan says:

    Truth – I've been in this space – still working through it… Thank you for your honesty.

  7. slsimms says:

    Very raw and honest, something I can relate to.

  8. Katherine says:

    love this

  9. Steve says:

    Candice, I'm in awe of your openness. As others have said, this is raw and honest and touching. None of my partners have ever expressed anything like this, and I will look at women in a completely new light from now on. May you continue to grow Candice. Namaste

    • Wow–thank you for that…learning to see each other in a new light and supporting each other's growth is a HUGE step towards healing. Namaste to you as well…

  10. Anne Falkowski Anne says:

    Love the way you don't flinch when you write. Wow!

  11. Rich K says:

    You never fail to blow me away. I absolutely adore your vulnerability and complete lack of fear of intimacy. Thank you for writing the things you do.

  12. nastassja says:

    I did not know this was my truth until you spoke it and I read it. Thank you for this. Burning bright and hot….

  13. Adam Sheck Adam Sheck says:

    Great post, open, brutally honest, provocative – just how I like it, thank you. The different uses of the term “anorexic” is so interesting in its application these days whether sexual anorexia or emotional anorexia, though I believe those two are interconnected.

    I know for me at least, the deeper down I push MY shadow, the harder he springs back out with a vengeance. Yet I have also learned to enjoy the springing.

    Adam

    • Hah! I think that's the trick, eh? To simply fall in love with the springback–because we all have shadows and we still unconsciously push them down all the time. If you can learn to love the process, it may not take away the pain, but it can relieve the unnecessary suffering and help to spring you forward towards freedom. Much love and many blessings!

  14. Constance says:

    from one recoverying subressor, I intimately understand the complete love of self by owning our desires in whichever form they reveal themselves. This is the one lesson that I can easily help my own daughter avoid and pass onto other women (and men) through my own recovery. I think what you wrote andwhat you offer IS support Candice..for now.

    • Thank you for reading and reflecting. That is my desire–that by speaking and sharing our experiences, we can see ourselves reflected in them and come to love ALL of who we are…especially those places where we hold shame or think we are 'unlovable'…I wish you many blessings with your daughter

  15. 9lbsoflove says:

    I fucking love your writing. Thank you, once again. ps- sooo excited about seeing Tears for Fears live this fall!

  16. Barry says:

    Thank you Candice for shining your light into the darkness that most, if not all, men have never seen, experienced, understood, have a damn clue about. We all have our demons, and our baggage. It’s good to recognize that we bring that to partnership, as does our partner. Thank you.

  17. Me2 says:

    You are a super star to me!!… You have boldly put words to something I have been experiencing too…. Thank you for gifting me with a feeling of solidarity… I want to love my animal. It is good to love one's animal.

  18. Guest says:

    Third wave feminism called and it wants its revelation back: "The real sexual revolution doesn’t happen by burning bras or holding onto anger; it happens in our minds, our hearts, our pussies." This site could benefit from stronger editorial intervention. So many of these pieces break my heart with their confessions and then alienate me with their transparently false bravado.

  19. [...] many different facets and labels that exist within the OTC. The primary focus of the community is female orgasm. The central manuscript of the OTC is the book called, Slow Sex by Nicole Daedone. The essential [...]

  20. maya says:

    wow, thank you. really. so clearly written. The way I feel, and I know so many other women feel, but unable to clarify in and put into words. I feel this same dichotomy, and I feel like you. It is such a sad, strange place to be, and it is SO difficult to be able to allow myself the permission to ask for pleasure, to enjoy pleasure, to feel like I even deserve it. And the seducing thing..yes, just all to hide the feelings within of inadequacy.

    So thank you for writing this, I think it's time that the REAL, deep issues that women experience be written about more, not shallow beauty articles or the like.

  21. [...] I’ve explored the edges of my sexuality time and time again. So, as we engage our flesh in the perfunctory grammar of fucking, a familiar wish arises—stay with me. It is my invitation. It is where I surrender all my bounty. And I long for it with the same intensity that I thirst for climax. [...]

  22. [...] (faster, slower, higher. lower, softer, harder). Instead, I ignored her until finally a fake orgasm ended the [...]

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