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The last few weeks have been a whirlwind. Usually, I spend most of my time with Aunt B. As the workshop approached, we hadn't seen each other in over a week.

When I arrived Thursday evening, Betty looked horrible. She'd forgotten to fill her prescription for her inhaler and hadn't been medicated in over 5 days. Her muscles were pained...she lost her breath going to the supermarket and had to rest against a building several times. I questioned whether she could get through a workshop - I questioned whether or not I push her too hard.

All my anxiety melted away when the women arrived Day 1. They'd traveled from Iceland, Maine, California, and Massachusetts (we even had some nyc locals). What struck me was that several of the women didn't know what they were going to experience over the weekend. They were here on a recommendation - all they knew was that they would be nude. Women are so brave yet never get credit for it. To show up at someone's apartment, get naked with a group of strangers and not know what's going to happen next - fucking amazing.

Betty loves genital show & tell. She always lights up as she guides women through genital appreciation. We all gather together in front of Betty - some sitting Indian style, some laying on their stomachs - all craning to get a better view of each woman's sex organ. We're bonded in this moment because there's no greater vulnerability than spreading open your sex organ to display your clitoris, labia and inner rosebud. Betty has each woman choose a name for her vulva so she can take ownership of her body. There's no greater act of independence than claiming your sex organ.

The transformation each woman experiences during this ritual is profound. I always say that their faces change from Day 1 to Day 2. And I know that I change too...I get better with each workshop. But this weekend I really had to confront my fear of losing Betty and my fear of failure. My internal dialogue goes something like this:

"You're a total idiot to give up a lucrative career, marriage and family to look at women's pussies and jerk off for hours with complete strangers. Why couldn't you marry a nice guy (you fucked plenty of them), get your beach house, and live happily ever after? And if you don't want to practice law then why can't you blog about health or relationships? Why do you have to choose female sexual liberation...why can't you just take the check and enjoy your life?"

When we wrapped Day 1 and everyone was gone, Betty approached me in the living room took my hand and said, "you can do these workshops by yourself. You don't need me." My heart sank and my mind unraveled. I felt like an even bigger loser. Yes, I can do workshops by myself but I don't want to - I love Betty - and the thought of her leaving the planet is too much to bear right now. I know it will happen but I want more time with her...I want to get the foundation funded and rollout our sex ed curriculum and certify women to do workshops.  It brought back my feelings of isolation when I was home-schooled and watched from my bedroom window as all the other neighborhood kids boarded the school bus.  I don't want to be alone.

I got to Betty's early Day 2 to see how she was feeling. She was back to normal and excited for erotic recess *exhale* I took a breath and we had coffee together. All was right in the world.

This group of women was electrified during erotic recess. The orgasms kept on coming and coming - they were authentic, full-body waves of pleasure. At one point, we all stopped to watch one woman have the most intense orgasm I've ever witnessed. She shared that she felt like something broke free in her heart, like she moved into a higher plane of consciousness. It was beautiful to behold.

I took some pictures as I ran my vibrator over my nipples post-orgasm.  Betty always says to keep going, that if we continue to stimulate our clitorises the orgasms will build upon each other.  I circulated my orgasm energy and went back for more.
 

And then I got this shot of the exact moment of my orgasm.  I've been able to snap shots before and but never during my orgasm.  It's hard not to close your eyes.  I took it as an omen that my mind is clear and my heart is open to the challenges ahead.

And Betty had some killer one-liners during the workshop. Here are the ones I remember:

During genital show and tell when we were describing g-spot stimulation: "If some guy was wamming on my g-spot I'd punch him in the face."

Answering a question about condoms and dental dams: "I'll take a hand-job over a latex dick any day."

In the middle of erotic recess as she excused herself to go to the bathroom: "never trust a fart."

We came, we laughed, we snacked, we shared, we massaged and we didn't want it to end. When we reassembled in the circle for our final ritual - we sit in the goddess pose with our legs touching holding hands (right hand down to give/left hand up to receive) and choose a word to describe our experience - I chose "harmony".

And I've decided to let Betty's experience support my life choices. She is my guide and my teacher.

Thank you
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