Sex is like a soufflé

Sex is like a souffle. A souffle is complicated and unique. It is difficult to get it to finish well. It takes preparation and forethought. You cannot be distracted or have your mind on something else while you are cooking a souffle. Use just the right ingredients at just the right temperatures. Beat and whip, but not too much. Fold and test until everything is perfect.  Practice. Know your oven and test the temperature. Keep trying. It’s worth it – for the enjoyment, taste, and accomplishment.

You are not a hot pocket.
You are a souffle.

Your body is not a package of fake meat and cheese (even if it feels like it some days) that you throw in a microwave oven, and it’s done in 3 minutes.  You are a souffle that takes time and practice and love to prepare. You don’t make a souffle because you are hungry right now. You make a souffle for the love of cooking something special.
If you are treating sex like a hot pocket meal, you are not doing it right.
People treat sex like “I wanna do it and you should wanna do it with me too”… “I have this need and I am gonna use you to fill it”… “Hungry. Need hot pocket.” 

Instead of treating sex like the deepest, sweetest, most liberating and fun conversation EVER.  If we spent time preparing ourselves and each other FOR each other, we would have a much better meal.  We wonder why we don’t want to have sex… but it is because we think it is a 3 minute heat up and BAM we are aroused and then orgasm and then done.  That’s just not how it was made […]

By |February 26th, 2014|Love and Making It|7 Comments|

Have you ever been asked a personal question?

This was how my mother started the conversation.
“Do you know…”
“Do I know, what?”
“Do you know how women have orgasms?”
(AAaaaaaakward pause…avoiding eye-contact now…)
“Um, yes? …  Yes. I mean, yes. Mom, Seriously!” (laughing erupts)

How did your parents bring up the sex talk?
But, my mother didn’t stop at this first shocking question. She did not accept my protest that I already knew all I needed at 16 years old.  She knew me deeply despite the fact that it would be 11 more years before I truly understood the depths to which she knew me, when I had my own daughters to love.

(aside: isn’t it funny that as we grow up, we think our parents don’t know us? now that i am a mom myself, i could hardly think of anything i know more intimately than my daughters.)

See, my mother became a teenager in the 60’s and a single mother to two small girls in the 80’s. She is neither large in stature or personality.  Caring, loyal, sensitive, Indigo Girls-singing… this is my mom.

She gave me space to discover my way in the world. She usually held back advice or opinions. But, this conversation, this was just too important to leave to chance, I suppose. Too important to hope my sister and I learned it somewhere someday.

And so, one night at the dinner table, surrounded by flowered wallpaper in our little kitchen nook, my education in sex and/or “feminism” began with a loving, blunt question.
 “Do you know how women have orgasms?
There is a part of your vagina called the clitoris…”
“Wow, Yep. Yes there is… Thinking about it right now, Mom. Thanks.”

Within that awkward, sweet conversation, my mom enunciated one of the most important things I have ever learned […]