Betty Dodson with Carlin Ross

Better Orgasms. Better World.

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Looking back over past decades filled with many sex partners and a handful of lovers, I’m back to being my own lover this year. Just as it should be when I look back over my life. After 8 decades on Planet Earth you might say I’ve been around the block a few times. But I still want to become more loving, gentler and consistently kinder toward me! That will make it a lot easier to be with myself while I enjoy the company of others.

Today with our planet on the brink of one climate disaster following another, I too wonder about the importance of sexual pleasure. Often it seems utterly frivolous to me as well as to many others. But then I realize that we’ve all grown up in a society that’s obsessed with sex. The result is like all puritanical societies where people end up obsessed with having sex, denying sex, controlling sex, hiding sex or mourning the lack of it— we are all obsessing over some aspect of sexuality. Just think how conservative politicians and religious leaders are so desperate to control women’s bodies with their anti-abortion stance. If these sex fearing folks could have their way, we wouldn’t even have access to contraception. Yup! It’s barefoot and pregnant in the kitchen for us.

Mankind suffers from womb envy. They want to control the birth process with some kind of assurance of their paternity so they are dedicated to controlling our sexual mobility. What better way than by maintaining a sexual double standard. We are taught there are two kinds of women: Madonna’s or Whores. One of the most insidious things about this double standard is how it gets women to enforce these rules. Mothers want daughters to be marriageable and happy in spite of the fact that many of them are miserable. These well meaning women end up as sex cops who try to keep the younger generation in line. Matriarchy is even more powerful than Patriarchy when it comes to the family.

Imagine being a girl in her teens, a maiden in her twenties, a matron who’s been married or a mother whose raised children and none of them has ever experienced an orgasm! Naturally they’re all obsessing over this missing link— some kind of mysterious ecstatic pleasure they’ve never had. It was especially painful for me when I was married and convinced everyone else was having mad, passionate orgasmic sex in one form or other. Sex was on my mind day and night as I searched for answers. Meanwhile many women just accept their fates and suffer in silence. Either way we all know we are somehow broken. I can think of no better way to keep a large group locked into being second class sexual citizens. If we can’t be virginal, we can at least be good girls with a minimum of sexual experiences before marriage. As long as women are not educated consumers of sex, men don’t have to worry about their sexual performance because we don’t know squat about sex. Yet we are expected to be sexy and desirable to please our husbands. Is it any wonder why so many men want a chaste woman for his wife and mother of his children? Later on he’ll have access to buying sex from a professional or wanking to online porn. Both outlets are geared to please and sexually entertain men.

Many of these good girls make up for their lack of sexual knowledge and orgasm by faking pleasure. They buy sex books, go into therapy, get cosmetic surgery, buy bigger boobs and trim their pussy lips to look like the porn stars. We diet and suffer to be beautiful. We are slaves to fashion while gay men determine what “sexy” means to them. Some of my best girlfriends looked like drag queens with their excessive make-up. Many have the straight hair style that falls in her face so she must constantly push it back with femmy gestures that bring attention to her beautiful face as she helplessly wobbles around on her “chase me, fuck me” high heels. I know because I too was a slave to fashion until I turned forty and became a hippy who wore jeans, boots and tie-dyed tops.

I recently attended a party wearing a tailored jacket with tights tucked into leather boots with flat heels. I had pockets for Kleenex along with money, credit card, keys, lipstick. All the while I was warm and comfortable and nothing hurt. But I was not sexy or hot. Still, many people came up to me to say how much they appreciated my work. One of the best rewards of growing older is the relief of no longer being a sex object for men and driven by my hormones. But you know what? I still obsess over my thinning hair and sagging chin line with a new wrinkle appearing daily. And I can’t be without my lipstick because wearing it has bleached all the natural color from my lips.

In place of youth and beauty, I’m appreciating the fruits of my labors. That plus the fact that I have a brilliant young business partner who is beautiful enough for both of us. Carlin is my guide through the intricate complexities of cyber space as we co-create a website dedicated to sex education and information. A virtual Orgasmic Sisterhood is one of my dreams come true so I’m content to be my own Valentine this year. Please join me and give yourself some Orgasmic Selflove today!

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