Happy middle or happy end?

 I am always gratified when a client asks about something I do that other bodyworkers tend not to. This happened yesterday when  a wise (and sweet) client asked after his session why some practitioners give a release at the end and others somewhere during the middle.

It’s a great question and one that I thought about deeply when I put my decision in place years ago to be in the “happy middle” camp.

At the beginning of an appropriate session, I tell the client that a release is possible. I do this because I don’t want the client to be thinking “will he or won’t he” for an hour as I touch him. It removes the mystery and releases stress even before we begin our work. When I get to the point where a release works well, I ask the client again, no matter what he said the first time or how aroused he is. Most practitioners who will provide a release don’t allow their clients this erotic choice. They assume that every male will want this. While most clients do say yes, allowing them this decision affirms their erotic choice; it is not about my assumption or will. And then, there really is a healthy percentage that says no. Having an orgasm requires work and strong engagement. After an hour of wonderful relaxation and conscious touch, some men simply want to bask in the sensations of arousal and pleasure without a goal. (I do offer to massage the genitals of these men without the goal of a release.)

If a client does choose to have a release, I offer a full ten minutes of massage afterwards. He is able to enjoy post-orgasmic state with even more conscious touch and attention.

A very small number of men are so sensitive after orgasm, that even gentle touch is almost painful. Gentle placement of my hands with almost no movement works in these rare instances. But in many cases, I think we are so used to orgasms being the equivalent of “…and that’s all folks” that we never luxuriate in those sensations. We can be almost fearful of the waves of pleasure that keep arising. I do hope I help men through that particular fear.

Of course a happy ending can be very fun and pleasant. However, at times it can feel like a send-off, an expectation needing to be fulfilled, disconnected from the entire session the preceded it.  Since my whole m.o. is about wholeness and (re)discovery of the body, I choose the option with the greatest possibility of integration.

Here’s to happy middles and erotic choice!

What percent gay am I?

 “What percent gay am I?”, the client asked.
I was utterly taken aback. It felt like something from the 1950s. And yet it was an honest question from a client at the end of his session.

(A little background: the client was an immigrant of mixed Arab background in his mid 30s. He had been married (to a woman) and divorced and was probably going to get married again relatively soon.)

In addition to all the various techniques of body and healing work that can be involved in sessions, the one constant I try to present is that of space where shame has no home. So when someone asks a question such as “what percent gay am I”, I try to think quickly how to respond in a way that is honest, but will also not shut down the questioner, no matter what I think of the question.

I’m sure I looked quite surprised. But what I said was: “It doesn’t matter. There really is no such thing as a percentage. Our bodies respond in different ways to different people.” This wasn’t the best answer, but it was what I could come up with on the fly. I wasn’t sure if he was trying to give himself permission to get married or permission to play around with guys on the side or permission to suppress this part of himself or what. He had been very open at the beginning of the session about wanting to be more grounded in his body. He had also been open about knowing that he needed help from a man in his exploration.

I know that a question like this is particularly provocative when it keeps resonating and I talk about it (the question, not the client) with others. For me, part of it is that I came out between the ages of 17 and 19 and have never had sexual contact with a woman. This notion of  “a percentage gay” doesn’t apply to me. (Well… I guess it’s 100%…) But the client’s question forced me to think yet again about sexuality as a spectrum rather than a fixed point.

For many men who identify as gay, the first thing that comes to mind when someone comes out with a question like this is: “You’re gay and can’t admit it. The fact that you are even asking such a question shows how conflicted you are.” In new immigrant communities, particularly those where a certain type of machismo is valued, this might very well be the case. However, if I look a little deeper, I realize that this is an opinion, not a fact. Though I have a lot of life experience that shows me how men can delude themselves for many years about their sexual attraction, I really can’t know how all of this shakes down in someone else’s body.

So I remain caught between not wanting to allow the client to remain deluded and not wanting to push my opinion on his situation. My only solution is to invite the client into deeper relationship with his body. If I can get him to appreciate and nurture what his own body has to offer, then whatever “his percentage” ends up being, it will have a more stable and grounded place to thrive honestly. The choice to dive farther is his.