Betty Dodson with Carlin Ross

Better Orgasms. Better World.

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Menstruation began very troubled for me because I didn't get my period until I was sixteen, long after my girlfriends had theirs. Right after it finally happened, a box of sanitary napkins was mailed to our house anonymously from someone who knew my terrible secret. Instantly I was paranoid about why and who had done this but I never found out. Each month, I was doubled over with cramps bad enough to leave school so I could get into bed with a heating pad. We referred to our monthly bleeding as "The Curse."

In my twenties, the misery continued only now I welcomed my menses each month after I'd become sexually active. One time my therapist suggested cramping was my resentment toward being a woman. Later I realized, what I resented was the restrictions that came with being a woman: pressure to marry, settle down and raise children. This kept my desire to be an important artist unacceptable because my womanly and wifely duties were supposed to come first. I wanted none of it.

When I finally married my husband we had agreed to no children, but he changed his mind the second year and I got pregnant. Much to my secret relief, I miscarried. But I continued to be plagued with horrible cramps each month. In the last year of marriage I consulted a doctor worried about the large blood clots I passed every month. It turned out to be endometriosis; the lining of my uterus had attached onto surrounding organs. The doctor suggested I get pregnant or go on the pill which mimicked pregnancy. I opted for a divorce instead. Once I became regularly orgasmic alone and with my new lover, lo and behold the cramps disappeared. Regular sex with orgasms turned out to be my healing.

As a feminist activist in my late thirties and throughout my forties, the women I knew referred to our period as "the blessing" instead of "the curse." I sat on a towel or in the tub to bleed freely in-between using tampons. Monthly bleeding was transformed into the power of being a woman instead of feeling ashamed. Whenever I felt slight cramping, I would simply get out my vibrator, have an orgasm and the flow would begin. My monthly cycle went from sporadic to regular every 28 to 30 days.

Adam, one of my sixties lovers always wanted to have intercourse when I had my period. I'd get on my knees in the bathtub and we would fuck doggie style. Thelood would go down the drain. It was great not to worry about getting pregnant and I always felt horny during that time of the month. Later on in the seventies, my young lover Billy wanted to suck my pussy but I'd just started my period. He didn't care so I put in a tampon so the blood would be held inside. Billy got down between my legs and took the string between his teeth, pulled out the tampon and threw it back over his shoulder just like a damn dog. Then he turned into a vampire lusting for blood. That was a very healing moment for me. Blood simply tastes metallic, not some evil nasty tasting substance to fear. I sailed through my forties with ease and grace when it came to having my period that had indeed become a blessing.

Then at the age of 50, I started to experience a new kind of bodily rush that I attributed to the super pot I'd scored in Big Sur. While going about my work, I'd feel a welling of heat in my pelvic area that would slowly move up my torso ending with light dew on my upper lip. Several times a day, I'd stop what ever I was doing, relax and breathe into these new sensations that I called my "mini heat orgasms." The internal warmth felt similar to a sexual build-up, followed by the relaxation after an orgasm. I looked forward to these sweet moments. One afternoon when I was telling my neighbor Pricilla about my heat orgasms, she began laughing and said I'd just described a hot flash!

Women complained so bitterly about hot flashes that I'd been unable to make a connection between what I was experiencing and the hormonal surges that accompanied menopause. I decided to go through the change naturally. Nutrition, exercise, and enjoying regular orgasms would be my therapy. Since marijuana had at one time been prescribed for easing women through menstrual cramps and menopause, I didn't stop smoking until the following New Year's Eve 1981 to write my best selling book, "Sex for One." Today cannabis is my pain medication for ageing joints.
At first I was elated not to have my periods any more. Having partnersex without any fear of pregnancy was a feeling of freedom with no condoms, no diaphragms, no spermicidal jelly, no tampons, no bleeding on panties or sheets and towels.

But by the time I'd turned sixty; the lining of my vagina had thinned out and I had to stop all forms of vaginal penetration because it had become so painful. At the time I was producing video tapes so I actually preferred masturbation to dealing with a time consuming relationship. Toward the end of my sixties, I went to see a young woman endocrinologist in Santa Barbara who promoted what she called "natural hormones." After she checked me out, she recommended I take these plant based hormones to have a healthier functioning vagina. I figured it would be fun to do vaginal penetration during clitoral stimulation again, something I'd enjoyed in the past.

After a few weeks of plant based hormones, I felt like a guy who was making a transition into becoming a woman. Suddenly I needed new clothes and I spent a fortune on makeup. Next I began to lust for a nice big fat penis to sit on and ride all the way to a big come. I was sixty-eight at the time. The first man I brought home was a duplication of my husband, a smart Jewish guy with a big dick that came way too fast. I began to fantasize in more detail what I really wanted in a sex partner. I conjured up a young handsome man, a martial artist with stamina and a nice hard cock that could last for at least an hour or longer.

That's when young Eric sent a letter telling me that my book, Sex for One had been the best he'd ever read. When he went on to ask a few sex questions, they revealed a person who thought about sexual skills in detail. After a few months of exchanging emails that became my favorite porn, I foolishly invited a 22 year old college student to come see me if he were ever in NYC. I was 69 at the time and immediately I regretted doing this because I knew the reality would spoil my perfect fantasy. However, it turned out quite differently.

The decade of my seventies, the youth of old age, served up some of the best partner sex in my life. For eight years of our sexual exchange was fabulous. Not everyone would like our style of sex, we talked about it, we explored and experimented with everything we could think up and all of this was without any concern for contraception or monthly periods. Eric became my apprentice and moved in with me. My second book Orgasms for Two chronicles our sexual explorations. It's hard to believe a woman in her seventies could be having some of the best sex of her lifetime. I am Baubo, the postmenopausal crone goddess with a functioning orgasmic sex organ; something society denies exists in older women.

Looking back, I would change only two things when it comes to menstruation. I would have had a party to celebrate becoming a maiden with my first bleeding and another one to celebrate becoming a crone, a wise woman who finally comes into her full power. We no longer make babies but we do make sense as we share our knowledge. I'd like to see postmenopausal women running our country. We would do a far better job than what those old men with limp dicks have done so far.