
I learned something new.
I knew that orgasm and ejaculation were different things. After all, isn’t that why men are interested in Tantra and other energy arts — to decouple them, and so enjoy sex and orgasm (over and over again), without ejaculating.
What I didn’t know was that, sometimes, ejaculation happens without orgasm.
I just learned this, and it blew my mind.
If you have a penis, then you might be surprised that this was news to me.
“Of course!” you might think, “Duh, that’s what premature ejaculation is all about. Everyone knows that.”
Well, until a few weeks ago I had believed that ejaculation was evidence of orgasm, that they were always coupled — unless he had learned to orgasm without ejaculating. I thought that “premature ejaculation” meant “reaching orgasm and ejaculating sooner than preferred.”
I didn’t know that ejaculation could be like a sneeze, a simple release of tension. It feels good, sure, but it’s not what you’d describe as bliss or ecstasy. (“I just had the most amazing, mind-blowing sneeze!” said no one ever.)
I didn’t know that a man could experience unsatisfying sex where there was ejaculation and not orgasm.
But I have recently learned that men, also, can have sex and even ejaculate — and not experience the pleasure of orgasm.
“I haven’t had an orgasm in years,” he said.
“Really? Not even by yourself, when you masturbate?” I asked.
“Nope. Ejaculation is easy, but orgasm is different. It’s not easy for me.”
I had no idea.
Sometimes he worries about pleasing his partner, or he feels pressure and anxiety when he is with someone new because he isn’t sure if his penis will be the way that he wants it to be. Will it be hard at the right time, and for enough time. Or will it ejaculate before he wants it to, and will his erection go away, and will he feel embarrassed or ashamed, and how will his partner respond?
It’s amazing what happens when we put words to our experience and let someone else hear them. It still feels scary, of course, to be that vulnerable. But we find our courage in doing so, and when we allow ourselves to be seen and heard, we also allow ourselves to be healed. The part we had been hiding can be included, and is no longer relegated to the shadows or the secret pit of shame.
We all have this, I think. The experience of being human includes the experience of feeling like there’s something wrong with us, something unlovable or broken or unwanted.
When we are willing to hold that part with courage and let it be seen, then the division we had cut within our own self is held in wholeness and inclusion — we accept and include that part as a part of who we are.
What else is it to be healed, than to feel whole and accepted?
Dear Reader, whatever parts and genitals you have, I hope they feel safe and appreciated and celebrated.
Dear Friend, you know I adore you and all of your parts. Especially your penis, no matter how it happens to be.
