Setting Intentions for the Week

Thank you in advance for your time; time is our most precious asset, so thank you for investing your asset into my work.

My husband shared with me that I tend to bull doze over his needs. And Damn that hit hard. I don’t want to be that type of partner.

Thank you, Goddess, for giving Patrick the courage to share his feelings with me. I am profoundly grateful for his courage to setting the framework for boundaries. I’m so, so proud of him. I’m infinitely grateful to be one half of our whole.

Thank you in advance for keeping Patrick’s needs a fore thought until it becomes second-nature. Thank you in advance for forgiving myself for bull dozing Patrick’s needs; my needs were bull dozed as a child. It’s the only thing I’ve known my whole life. I’m doing my best.

Thank you in advance for a change in my career by entering the law field. Thank you in advance for the opportunity with B’s divorce law office. Thank you in advance for my sponge mind to soak up all of the information for experience. Thank you in advance for the practical knowledge of law, going into law school.

Thank you in advance for the double money during 21 DOB. I am grateful that K contacted me for that time frame, and that she’s willing to work around my schedule at the law firm.

Thank you in advance for allowing that extra income to fund my Maritime Tour. Thank you in advance for a Very Newfie Christmas in Nova Scotia, with Linda, Eric, Dave, Sandra, Scott, and Mayvis and Jade.

Thank you in advance for our safety during Cvd Delta. We are scared of being infected by this mutated virus, and are grateful for our health.

Thank you in advance for art and creativity, for laughter, and for love. Thank you in advance for safety, financial security, and creating a successful side hustle.

I’m grateful for self-awareness, and my growing self-confidence. Thank you in advance for setting the example of confidence and tenacity, for Patrick to learn by my lead.

Thank you in advance for a manageable menstruation, and for continuous efficacy of barrier BC. We have decided to remain childless, and thank you in advance for no pregnancy.

Thank you in advance for a marvelous week, full of knowledge, newness, and creativity. Thank you for my health; I’m profoundly grateful for all of your gifts, Goddess.

Blessed Be.

Setting Intentions for the Week

Thank you in advance for sleep, and for my body feeling rested. Thank you in advance for good health, and no seizures because of the Houston heat.

Thank you in advance for financial prosperity, million dollar ideas, business growth, and connections. I’m grateful to have a job, and I’m grateful for the warm welcome back into my community.

Thank you in advance for pulling myself out of my tiny hole called home, and embracing fashion, creativity, and community.

Thank you in advance for love, empathy, kindness, and support. I’m grateful for my friends, my small circle of acquaintances, and my family.

I’m grateful for being a strong woman with a presence. Thank you in advance for stepping into my power, letting go of fear, and allowing my success speak to the shitty people that have been in my life, rather than feeling the need to justify my actions.

Thank you in advance for interesting, successful research, which will lead to opportunities for papers and consulting gigs.

Thank you in advance for diversifying my income, and for working smarter, not harder.

I am grateful for my power of observation, my wit, analytical skills, and my ability to see things others miss.

Thank you in advance for a long, healthy life, and body, please forgive me for being such an ass hole to you. We need a solution to this chronic pain, but eating healthy is hard (lolol).

Thank you in advance for an amazing week!

The Imposter Within Me

Imposter Syndrome

I’ve been hearing this phrase dropped around quite a bit lately: Imposter Syndrome. I had a general idea of what is meant, and assumed I probably fell under the umbrella somewhere. I kept trying to avoid it, but as we know, what the mind tries to ignore will fester and start to eat you alive. It took me probably a year and a half of hearing that phrase, thinking about looking it up, and then gently putting it on my “Things to Eventually Get To” list in my brain – AKA the shit that’s never gonna fucking get done.

Strangely though, I kept being pulled back to that phrase. So recently, I finally sat down to look it up and my search results ultimately led to Wikipedia – of course. Which, for anyone who thinks that Wikipedia is just garbage, you are mostly right…. But! Sometimes you can go to the references area and strike gold. I found a few peer reviewed sources (I was shocked too!)

I have never felt good enough to be able to take credit for my small achievements. I always attributed any kind of small success to luck. “Geeze, I was lucky that xyz happened today that I could xyz!” It feels fake to call myself a researcher because I am not in a PhD program. It feels fake to call myself a writer because I don’t have any credentials to be considered one; as far as I’m concerned it’s just a creative outlet, something I have to do for school, and something I enjoy. I don’t even feel like my writing is even that great, even though I’ve been told by others that they enjoy my writing. I think, “They’re just being kind; they don’t actually think that.”

“Women who experience the impostor phenomenon maintain a strong belief that they are not intelligent; in fact, they are convinced that they have fooled anyone who thinks otherwise.” (P. R. CLANCE & S. A. IMES) Great women like Maya Angelou, Brene Brown, Tina Fey, and even Tom Hanks have all admitted to having issues with imposter syndrome.

In fact, women who exhibit the impostor phenomenon do not fall into any one diagnostic category. The clinical symptoms most frequently reported are generalized anxiety, lack of self-confidence, depression, and frustration related to inability to meet self-imposed standards of achievement (P. R. CLANCE & S. A. IMES).”  When I was reading through the list of characteristics of imposter phenomenon and realizing that my thoughts, attitude, and personality checks off all of the boxes. It was incredibly eye-opening for me to finally see it with my own eyes, and for someone to confirm what I’d always been feeling was incredibly liberating. For me, though, it was also kind of devastating.

I grieved for the girl and the young woman who always out of place every where I went. I always felt like my friends would eventually realize how annoying I was and not want to be my friend anymore. At work, if I had a shitty day with sales, I would feel like shit; but if I had a good day at work I would think that I was just lucky, even when clients that I built up came to see me, I was still feeling lucky that they had come in that day. It was such a frustrating feeling of never being able to celebrate my little wins.

So as it turns out, according to Clance and Imes from Georgia State University, there are 2 types of imposter syndrome: 1) someone who had a sibling that was deemed the smarter, more intelligent child; or 2) someone who was deemed the smarter, more intelligent child by their parents.

For me, I fall under the second type, and according to Clance and Imes, the family conveys to the child that they are superior in every way—intellect, personality, appearance, talents. In the parents’ eyes, there is nothing that they can’t do if they want to. She is told how smart they were during infancy and childhood, such as learning to talk and read early or counting earlier than other children. In the family members’ eyes, they are perfect (P. R. CLANCE & S. A. IMES).

I was that child. From an early age, I remember being told how smart and/or how pretty I was. According to my mother, she was constantly stopped and ogled by people. She tried to get me to be the next Gerber baby, and she put me in a couple of beauty pageants as a kid, but stopped when she realized, thankfully, that she didn’t want to turn into a pageant mom. And to add a cherry on the top, I was an only child for 8 years, so all the attention was on me.

According to Clance and Langford, imposter syndrome is correlated with anxiety, and rank high on the neuroticism and perfectionism personality score (SAKULKU, ANDALEXANDER 2011). Guess who tests high on that score: THIS GIRL. Don’t be jealous though; it’s the worst high-test score ever! Thanks mom and dad!

But seriously, if you recognize something in yourself that sounds like what I have just described, there is help for it. Therapy is a great place to start! For this type of condition, it’s completely internalized, and so there are step that can be taken to externalize the pain. It is proposed that therapy comprised of learn, “a warm acceptance of all aspects of the person, an empathic understanding of the person’s internal world, and an attitude in the therapist of genuineness and emotional honesty.”

So thank you for reading; as always, I am grateful for your time. If you’d like me to do a more in-depth piece on Imposter Syndrome, please feel free to send a message or leave a comment down below.

If you like what you see, please feel free to subscribe. I am trying to put out 1-2 entries a week, and there is much more to come!

Thank you again so much!

The Anxiety Monster

“You either walk inside your story and own it or you stand outside your story & hustle for your worthiness.” – Dr. Brene Brown

****Trigger Warning: Graphic description of anxiety in the first paragraph and some minor graphic descriptions below. ****

You all know what I’m talking about: it’s that little tiny monster that sneaks its way into your soul, making you question everything that you do, in the more you question yourself, your sanity, your world, the more it feeds, and the bigger it grows. Eventually, without us realizing, it has turned into this horrid creature that you’ve never seen before, but it is suffocating you, and your knees bend beneath you, and eventually you give up and allow it to take over.

Yeah – that went dark fast, didn’t it? This is probably saying, “Bitch, I don’t come here for the depressing stuff. I come here for the relatable information and occasional humor!” First of all, thank you for thinking that I’m funny; I’ve been working on it 😉 Secondly, this is my show damnit! *pouts*

But in all seriousness, I know that I claim this is a sex education blog, but I think that this needs to be talked about, because as small as my platform is, all it takes is it to reach one person in need for it to be worth it. There is never a gesture too small for someone who genuinely needs and is receptive to help. It just starts with a simple question: “Are you okay?

Any way, back to me! Mine and Patrick’s world have been in a tailspin since the year began, and we were lucky enough to get hit with a triple whammy: financial, family, and moving. We decided to get married this year, I decided to go back to school full time and cut back on working only a couple of days a week, then we found out that Patrick’s father had a stroke and were able to reconnect with his father’s side of the family, but because they live out of town, we rented hotel rooms, and my course load was significantly fuller than I originally anticipated, and I’m rebuilding a relationship with my father, and he just recently met Patrick, and it goes on and on and on.

If that felt like a cluster fuck of information, how do you think we feel? The anxiety is constantly looming; it feels like there’s constantly something that I’m forgetting about, but I can’t quite put my finger on it. It’s physically, emotionally and mentally exhausting to be on high alert ALL OF THE TIME. And to top it off, I’m an empathic fixer: I feel very deeply, process very slowly, and I have the instinct to try and fix things as soon as shit hits the fan. I feel anxiety about the possibility of feeling anxiety. Like, what the fuck is that shit? I can’t fucking even. Side note: anxiety simultaneously brings out the basic white bish and the foul mouthed sailor in me.

And worst yet, I am, what I have dubbed, just right this second, an emotional coat rack. I tend to ask people if they need help, and once they do, they tend to dump their emotional coats on me, which wouldn’t be a problem, except, yep, I said it above, I’m an empathic fixer. And, I suck at asking for help, so as a result, I either internalize (which I didn’t realize the extent to which I do until recently), or I emotionally dump on others, who are also empathic fixers. We emotionally dump like it’s a freaking pyramid scheme, or the PC term we use now, a Multi-level marketing scheme. They can’t fool me; John Oliver told me they’re the same!

So how does this anxiety show itself, you may ask? Probably not, but I’m going to tell you any way. For me, it starts with a little bit of OCD; Did you lock the door? Yes, I’ve checked it 5 times dumb ass. Then, I’ll start nagging, blaming and resenting; He knows I’m pissed off today, why is he still breathing in my general direction? Then, we end up having a stupid argument about something stupid, and we both feel shame and guilt for acting like a cunt muffin towards each other. Finally, we make up, and talk about it and move on.

But fuck does it suck to always be the strong one sometimes. The worst part about emotional dumping how good it feels to get it off your chest. I get tired of being the emotional coat rack sometimes, and sometimes I want to be the one that someone offers to help.

Don’t feel shameful if you’ve never offered to help someone in need; life is hard and hectic, and sometimes, if things just don’t feel like they’re going to line up, you go into survival mode, or as I refer to it, hermit mode. It’s also difficult to open yourself up enough to empathize with others; it can be extremely uncomfortable to dig into a deep part of yourself that say, “I’ve been there too.” The bad memories of those experiences tend to linger and sometimes it feels like you can’t handle someone else’s load (lol load). But sometimes, even a simple hug, a funny meme or a “Just checking in” text can change someones day.

I encourage you to be curious about the things that give you anxiety; the monster wins if you shy away from it. I also encourage you to practice gratitude; when you focus on all of the positive things that are going on, it makes dealing with the hard stuff much easier to manage. Finally, practice noticing the people around you. If you see a mom with a screaming child, being stared at grudgingly by strangers, and clearly flustered, ask her if she needs help. If you haven’t heard from a friend in a long time, send them a text saying that you’re thinking about them. It’s amazing how it can brighten not only their day, but also yours.

#makeamericakindagain #anxiety #empathicfixer #emotionaldumping

The Elusive Female Orgasm

So many of you have heard of this phenomenon, the female orgasm, but many of you may not have experienced one during sex and or, for some, at all. Statistically speaking, roughly 58% of women have had some type of issue with orgasms; a smaller percentage, something to the effect of 5-10% have never had an orgasm at all. Ever.

Does that shock you? It shocked me when I first heard the statistic many many years ago, mostly because I’d always heard that women were supposed to have multiple orgasms, and I’d never had sex before, so I didn’t realize how big of an impact it would be on a woman’s life.

Fast forward to being sexually active, I was pretty distressed that I had never had an orgasm during sex. I could have one during foreplay, but never during sex, and then I would have to lie to the guy I was with when he would inevitably ask, “Do you…?” I’d immediately answer “yes”, sheepishly, mind you, because, you know, that’s what I was supposed to do, right? And orgasms were just supposed to happen, right?

Eventually, I just started focusing on their needs, because I was too embarrassed to admit that I was broken, so if I just focused on them, they wouldn’t pay attention to me trying to thinking myself into an orgasm.

Then, I met him. He, and we shall call him Chad, bragged that he could usually make women have multiple orgasms. We were together for just short of 2 years, and in that time, made me feel so incredibly broken (in more ways than one, but that’s for a different day). He just couldn’t understand why he couldn’t make me have orgasms, and that I must be the problem, not him, because he could do it to other women. And god forbid I try to buy a vibrator; it sent him over the edge, and NOT in the good way.

After Chad, I began exploring things I had always wanted to try, but Chad had no interest in. I also began hanging out with people in the BDSM community. At first, I was terrified and judgemental, I will admit. I had always been taught that BDSM was bad, and that “those people” were perverts, and so, being the dumb twenties something that I was, decided to check it out anyway. I started asking questions, reading, and trying to just understand how all this stuff works.

As it turns out, most of the people in the BDSM community are really cool people who just see life a little differently than most people. The BDSM community taught me that there is nothing wrong with me, that a lot of women don’t have orgasms regularly or at all, and you just have to do what makes you feel right. They’re super into consent too (also for another day), so they also taught me that the way Chad made me feel was wrong, and that his own insecurities were the problem and not me.

I think that it the moment my vagina was like, “Oh shit, really?”, Because almost immediately afterwards, when I would have sex, I would have orgasms. I remember the first one I had without having to sacrifice my left kidney and a third of my soul for; I remember being shocked, and confused and excited, but also very confused, because like, I don’t have orgasms, okay? And then it dawned on me in my naked stupor that, indeed, I had orgasmed and it was fucking phenomenal.

So kids, let’s have a re-cap of what we’ve learned so far: If you haven’t had an orgasm in a long time, you’re not broken! If you didn’t have one yesterday because you were thinking about all of the things you have to do before you die, also not broken. If you have never had one ever, there could very well be a medical condition (I know we didn’t discuss it yet, but just bare with me), but you’re still not broken. Most importantly, though, if someone is shaming you because you can’t have one, they’re a fucking ass hole, and you can tell them I said it too. Come at me bitch.

Now with all of that being said, according to the DSM-5, the diagnostics manual for mental health people, issues with orgasms is called Female Orgasmic Disorder. Yes it is a real thing, it’s like on Google, okay?

Now just to note, I am not a licensed therapist, so I cannot give you advice or diagnose you, nor is this a guide on how to diagnose yourself, it is simply a place for you to start your search. Don’t sue me because I don’t have any money any way.

According to the DSM-V, in order to be officially be diagnosed with FOD, you must meet the certain criteria:
– Happens 75%-100% of time
-Marked delay in orgasm
-Marked reduced intensity of orgasm
-Reduced # of orgasms
-Last at least 6 months
– Must cause distress
-Not better explained by relationship problems, medical problems, etc.

Do any of these sound like you? If so, do something about it now. Like right now. I can wait, but come back, okay?

First of all, anxiety is one of the main perpetrators of sexual dysfunction for all genders. If you’re too busy thinking about willing yourself to have an orgasm during sex or foreplay (guilty as charged), you start to feel hopeless about your vagina’s hatred of your pleasure. Stop thinking so much damnit! Start focusing on the task at hand and just enjoy the sex. Oh, and I’m pretty sure that if he has his penis in your vagina, he’s probably not worried about your boobs being lopsided during sex (note to self).

Also, if you are reading this and you are the victim/survivor of sexual assault, you are not alone and none of this is your fault. It is extremely common for people of all genders to have sexual dysfunction after an incident like that. Take your time and learn to listen to your needs and desires.

Next, are you on birth control or hormone replacements? Or have you noticed weird shit going on with your hormones? If so, you might have just won yourself a trip to the OBGYN, which is the worst prize trip ever, but it could change your sex game up. Hormones can be ass holes and will mess with your sex drive and ability to have an orgasm. They will also make you feel like you’re crazy for not having them. So let’s make hormonal issues not a thing, kay?

Also, are you telling you partner(s)? One of the best things you can do for yourself is have an open conversation with your partner(s). They might not know that you’re struggling, or they know that you’re struggling, but could think that they’re the problem. It’s easy to manifest explanations to problems in our brains because that’s what it’s good at, and sometimes, it too can be an ass hole. You may be able to work through it with them together. A very good friend of mine, we shall call her Veronica, hadn’t had an orgasm at all in something like 6 years. She and I talked about it, then she talked about it with her husband, and now she can actually experience an orgasm and her marriage has become stronger as a result.

You can also go to a sex therapist. While couples counselors are awesome, sex therapists have special training in sexual issues. They often tend to have a lot of couples come to them, but they also see individuals. Most (I hope) will come from a non-judgemental place and can guide you through the process of your struggles.

I hope reading this brought some enlightenment into your life and I hope that together we can break the shame and stigma of talking about female sexuality. Let’s make talking about orgasms at the dinner table okay, because I can guarantee that if there were more orgasms in the world, people would have less time to be stupid. Win win.

#maketheworldabetterplaceoneorgasmatatime #noticemebrenebrown #comeatme


Currently Learning to Work Through The Kinks

My name is Emily Autumn. As of writing this, I am 29 years old, and depending on who you ask in 10 years, I might still be 29. I am currently a human struggling to keep my head above water on bad days and scraping by on the good days. I say intentionally because I am working on getting through my mid-life crisis “spiritual awakening”. I’m hoping that if I say that phrase enough times that I’ll feel more inclined to believe it.

My life has been very complicated since I was born. I was born to a non-practicing Mormon mother with a big mouth and a non-practicing Muslim father, with an even bigger temper. They both experienced and witnessed a lot of abuse and other horrible events that brought them to each other and it was volatile from the start. And then I came along and we lived happily ever after. lol jk.

In a lot of ways, I had an ideal childhood: two parents that loved me and doted on me, we lived in an okay house in an okay neighborhood, I had really rad birthday parties and we took vacations to Disneyland (not World, there’s a difference) and Turkey. I went to an okay school where my mom was a room mother and my class always had the most elaborate parties for all of the holidays. I was even a girl scout and got to go camping and sell cookies and my mom was one of the den mothers. On the outside, we looked like a relatively normal, middle class family.

I lived a privileged life in a lot of ways, but the inner turmoil of my parents marriage, and subsequent divorce was a hefty price to pay for all of the glamorous things that I grew up with.

As it turns out, the old expression “All that glitters is not gold” was a very appropriate statement for my family. Behind the scenes, there was tension, anger, an eating disorder, verbal abuse and many attempts at physical abuse.

My father came from a very abusive family. My mother came was the product of an affair that my grandmother didn’t know she was having, and when my biological grandfather left her, she turned to alcohol. My mother grew up in a very unstable home and was sent to live with an angel for awhile, but we just called her Meme. My dad worked hard to make a living for my mom and I, and that’s what my mother needed: stability.

I grew up “the perfect child”; my mother made sure of it, no matter how she had to get me there. I had the perfectly styled hair, perfectly cute outfits with accessories to match, perfect play dates, perfect reading, perfect writing, and most importantly, I was to behave perfectly. It was all peachy and perfect (put lots of emphasis on those P’s).

So now, as an adult, I’ve realized that my early life how fucked up things really were in my house as an adult. I remember walking into the living room in the middle of the night to my parents fighting, and my mother threw a phone at my dad. I don’t remember this, but I allegedly walked in on my father raising his hand to my mom like he was going to slap her, and when he saw me, he pulled his hand away.

I also remember feeling like I had to walk on egg shells or else face the corner or face the hand to my bottom. I remember not emptying the trash can and my mother walking in and saying that she was disappointed in me and that she didn’t want to speak to me for awhile.

And I remember feeling unappreciated and unvalued by both of my parents sometimes.

So what’s the point of telling you all of this? You’re probably thinking, “Bitch, I thought this was a sex blog. Where’s the juicy shit?” Well unfortunately, before we can get to the good shit, we have to wade through the bad shit: the deep pit of shame of just being alive sometimes, or the struggle to just put one foot in front of the other to make it through the day. I promise that the good, juicy shit is coming soon (lol coming).

So let’s regroup after all the heavy shit at the beginning and kind of start over.

Hi, my name is Emily Autumn. That is not my legal name, it is my chosen name. All of the hard experiences in my life have given me the wisdom to know that you don’t have to settle for the things you’re given, you can build your own identity from scratch. I have struggled with an eating disorder, alcohol and boys. I used to feel a deep sense of shame from my experiences because I thought that it made me broken and unlovable, but I have come to the understanding that being broken just means that you have the opportunity to replace some of the old pieces dull pieces with beautiful ones and create a stained glass window.

I am currently studying psychology at the University of Houston. I want to pursue sex therapy, but I also want to study it. I want to study the relationship between sex and shame and change the conversation; I want to empower women with their sexuality, but also teach them to be kinder to themselves. I want to teach men that it’s okay to feel emotions and that it’s okay to cry and that it’s not shameful. And I want to teach men and women how to love themselves more so that they can be better partners, better parents, better listeners and better to themselves; because in my journey, thanks to some guidance from Brene Brown ( #noticemebrenebrown #shameless ) that you can’t give people something that you don’t have, and if you can’t be kind to yourself, you can’t be kind to others.

Just to be clear, this did not happen over night. My journey started roughly 4 years ago and it’s been mostly uphill. But in those 4 years, I have learned patience, kindness and thoughtfulness along the way, so I am eternally grateful for all of the terrible things that have happened in my life.

I am confident, that together, we can work through the kinks together and learn to face the world in a more confident and thoughtful way.

Until next time, make good choices and don’t have sex or you’ll get pregnant and die (just kidding, but seriously, have safe sex).