Category Archives: Hypnotherapy

Reprogram Your Habits and Fears.

Death_to_stock_photography_Vibrant (10 of 10)smallReprogram your thoughts and reactions to emotionally charged issues to the preferred response of your choice.

Have you ever tried to reprogram your own mind only to find that your mind has a mind of its own? No matter what problem you have or how long you’ve had it, re-configuring neural pathways your can help you go forth into the future without that problem.

Problems just melt away as if you’ve never had them. It is a way to reprogram yourself into the person you have always wanted to be. And yes, it seemed too good to be true to me too, when I first heard about it. But I have been using the therapy for over a year now and have experienced a 100% success rate—for myself and all my clients.

Reprogramming/re-configuring your neural pathways is a fast, easy way to permanently reprogram your thoughts and reactions to emotionally charged issues/beliefs/habits/addictions to the preferred response of your choice.

The benefits are:

1. The therapy is content-free. I, as the Practitioner, do not have to know what you are reprogramming. This is extremely valuable, because some things are so shameful and embarrassing that they cannot be spoken of out loud. This method allows you to repair the issue without ever telling me what you just worked on.

2. It is fast. The education/prep for the process actually takes longer than the process itself. You can expect to be permanently done with most issues in less than one hour. Indeed, the process itself usually takes about 10 minutes.

3. You get to choose your new reaction to the formerly troublesome (traumatic) memory/habit/belief. Some folks choose to be neutral. Some choose happiness and peace. One client programmed herself to want to exercise, so that she now gets up every morning cheerfully looking forward to her workout.

A partial list of problems this therapy has cured:

~Addictions
Smoking
Porn
Binge eating
Hording
Hair/eyelash pulling
~Phobias and fears
Spiders
Claustrophobia
Public Speaking
~Confidence issues
~Sexual Issues
~Anxiety and Panic Attacks
~Post Traumatic Stress
~Future Traumatic Stress (worry about bad things that might happen)
~Depression
~Relationship issues
~Past Abuse Resolution
~Habits
~Destructive/Negative Beliefs
~Weight and Health Management
~Performance Enhancement
Dance
Sports/Athletic
Public Speaking

This is my favorite tool for resolving issues—both for myself and for my clients, because it is quick, easy and content-free. As a survivor (thriver!) of past abuse, I use it for myself all the time and love it. It is just so nice to be free from worries, fears and memories that used to cause me so much anxiety, fear and pain. That it was so easy and fast to fix them is such a relief to me.

I have also used it for myself and others to enhance dancing/athletic confidence and abilities, so that now I am enjoying an anxiety-free experience in Argentine tango dancing.

Contact me for more info or to set up your in-person (Fort Collins, CO, USA), phone or Skype session.

No matter your tools and path, may you know happy, easy, peaceful self-growth! Godspeed.

Photo courtesy of Death to the Stock Photo.

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A Past Life Regression – Finding a Soul Mate.

 tombstone2

I entered the lifetime behind a donkey sliding down a narrow, steep winding pathway on the side of a hill. It was hot, dusty and dry and daytime.

Dry, white, chalky rocks and pebbles of all sizes were clicking and rolling downhill all around and under us as I attempted to push the donkey down the hill.

My dear sweet friend Sikh (pronounced “Seek”) was pulling the donkey. He had hold of the rope that was tied around the donkey’s neck.

The donkey was sitting in the path, refusing to move. I was bent over, my body shaking with laughter, my hands under the donkey’s butt, my face necessarily pressed into his shaggy fur to get a better grip underneath him, lifting, heaving, pushing and cussing—but mostly laughing.

I was laughing so hard that I wasn’t having much effect on the donkey.

Sikh was looking at me over his right shoulder with his usual, disgusted look reserved for my antics, and that was what I was laughing at. His dark eyebrows were drawn up and together in his characteristic scowl of disapproval. He was angry with me for laughing, but I couldn’t help it. It was just too funny.

It became even funnier when I suddenly remembered the donkey’s name. It was a word that literally meant “stubborn,” but was also used figuratively as a particularly nasty expletive.

Sikh’s sweaty, dirty face was so dear to me as I looked at it over the donkey’s back for what seemed like the first time in a very long time. A part of me wanted to sit down right there on the rocky path and cry with relief and gratitude at getting to see him again. I felt a sad longing for him, like we had been apart for forever.

A part of me, though, was laughing at our donkey predicament on the narrow path—and the look on his face.

Hypnotherapy can be like that. One part of the brain is processing the inner events that seem to be in the present but that are actually the past lifetime.

Another part of the brain is kind of watching from a distance, processing information from the vantage point of the modern, true present lifetime, where we are sitting in a hypnotherapist’s office doing a past life regression.

Sikh always had that amusing effect on me. He was the serious, cautious one most of the time. I was the crazy, funny one—always the person to think up some daredevil, dangerous stunt that was likely to get us killed—or at least in trouble.

I loved Sikh like a brother—or even more so. How to describe the love I felt for him? I trusted him completely. I felt so much affection for him in his seriousness. I felt somehow responsible for him—for his happiness.

We were friends—young boys, dark skin, dark eyes and dark hair. My name seemed to be something like Anand. This was all happening in some vaguely hot, dry, “foreign” place.

We were taking some sort of drink (wine?) back to his house where there was a gathering of some sort. We were late because of this stupid, stubborn donkey, and we both knew Sikh’s father would not be happy at our lateness.

The Hypnotherapy Session

I had readily agreed to be a volunteer for a friend who was training to be a hypnotherapist. She was a novice at that point, and we started the session with the intention of doing some committee work.

So she began by doing a standard progressive relaxation induction. At some point, however, my brain jumped suddenly into this lifetime with me laughing and pushing a donkey down a hill behind Sikh.

I tried to ignore the donkey and Sikh and follow her instructions, and somewhere along this mind path I had picked up my Inner Advisor (IA) too, so when my friend asked me if I was standing at the committee room door and was ready to go in, I turned to my IA and asked, “Should we tell her or should we go into the committee room?”

My IA smiled, feeling like an accomplice in some crazy conspiracy, and told me to tell her where I really was.

“Uhm…that’s not where we are…”

I felt some anxiety come off her as she calmly asked, “Okay…where are you?” I could tell she was just trying to kind of roll with it even though I could also still feel her anxiety.

I began laughing then and told her where I was and what was happening.

She began to ask more questions to ascertain the reason for the sudden jump into this lifetime. A part of me was curious about that too. Mostly though, another part of me was just so happy to be with Sikh again that I simply wanted to stay with him and experience the joy of getting to see him again.

We finally, with much sweat, cussing and laughing (on my part), got the donkey and its cargo to his house. There were happy people everywhere—inside and outside the house.

His father was nowhere to be seen, but his mother acknowledged our arrival and thanked us, sending us off to have fun there too. No one seemed to care that we were late.

Indeed, a part of my brain realized, there had been no actual time limitation. This same part of my brain went on to analyze this lifetime the way my young boy self, actually in that lifetime, never had.

Sikh was a worrier—sometimes even creating dark drama where there was none. He was analytical and logical—pessimistic most of the time, contrasting starkly to my love of fun, frolic, mayhem and laughter.

I loved him anyway—maybe even more so because of all of this; he was my best friend.

When Sikh’s mother sent us off with a smile and head tousles, I began to feel a profound sadness, because this gathering was reminding me of another gathering at this same house—a gathering in that lifetime’s future.

My friend was continuing to ask pinpointing questions, and as she did, I began to know why I had come to this lifetime. I suddenly wanted to not be there anymore.

“I got him killed,” I began to cry. “It was my fault he died.”

“No, no, no, no, no; it can’t be true—no.” I was sobbing, heart-broken, guilty, inconsolable.

It seems in that lifetime that I was always the one breaking the rules in the name of creating fun. I was the one who had come up with our usual MO, something we had been doing all of our young lives.

We had this understanding, Sikh and I, that whenever we were sent on an errand, we knew we would dash about the errand as breakneck as possible, because that would give us more time, away from our families and homes, for goofing off—for finding interesting things to amuse us. If we got the errand done quickly enough, no one would know we also had time for a detour or two.

This is how I got Sikh killed.

My mind fast-forwarded to the evening when Sikh’s father sent us on an errand that would take us past a small lake we liked to swim in. When we heard the directive, we looked at each other and knew the drill.

Laughing, we took off running, already turning a deaf ear to the, “be careful” and “go straight there and come straight back”—the usual send-offs from our mothers.

To our credit, we nearly always accomplished our errands before detouring. It was no different this time. We accomplished the delivery of Sikh’s father’s message, then we raced to the lake on our way back to Sikh’s house.

We stripped down to skin and jumped in—couldn’t have wet clothes convicting us upon our return home.

And after one of his dives, Sikh did not surface.

It was beginning to get dark; the sun had already set some time ago and the light was fading. I dove time after time—frantically, crying—snot and tears mixing with the lake water.

I screamed his name; I cursed him for not appearing; I begged him to show himself; I bargained with god; I prayed; I ranted at him, the gods, myself, almost drowning myself I was so exhausted.

I finally gave up diving and ran to his house, bursting in upon the group, naked, wild and crying.

We were searching in the black water, candles and lanterns of some sort on the banks and held high by family members and friends—many more had joined us.

Finally, one of Sikh’s older brothers brought his naked body up and out of the dark lake.

The women set to wailing at this sight and their mother fell to her knees when presented with this affront, this horror. His limp, blue body was so small and deflated in his brother’s arms.

The contrast between the two bodies, one small, blue and still, the other so large and vibrant and colorful, was obscene and shocking.

I felt a weird, sick anger at his older brother for being so alive while Sikh was so still.

I also felt the guilt settle squarely on my young shoulders in that lifetime with me standing on the bank of that black lake. I felt it sink in and grow roots. I had caused this. It was my fault.

Sikh would never have done anything like this without my suggestion, or more to the facts, my persuasion, because I had nearly always had to talk him out of his doubts, out of his worry at detouring from the normal, sane plan.

So I had jumped into this lifetime to observe and disassemble this guilt.

As that lifetime progressed within my friend’s pointed questions, I began to learn that no one blamed me for Sikh’s death. I was able to feel his parent’s emotions, and I felt only sadness there—both for his death and for their loss—but also for my loss. They knew how close we had been.

As I processed, as she asked me questions, I began to feel guilt’s grip on my throat loosen and then finally fall away. I felt my breath settle lower in my belly; I asked for Sikh’s forgiveness, sending it out into the Universe. I felt only love and warm regard in answer.

I felt me forgive myself. I sent my love for Sikh up and out, hoping it would find him somewhere, in some lifetime, some timeline.

As my friend was finally counting me back up and into the present there in the office, my Inner Advisor turned to me and said with a smile, “He is returning to you this lifetime. Get ready.”

And my heart went into a wild, wiggly dance of joy, gratitude and anticipation at this unexpected and welcomed news.

Next Divine Essence Hypnotherapy Workshop Series

Ladies only, please – sorry Gentlemen – but thought you might know someone who would like to join us.
Thank you kindly.

Open to Love
Open to your Feminine Essence

godess blueNext 6-week Class Series Starts September 24, 2014 – Contact me to Reserve your Seat – Space is Limited

For Women Only—Single or Partnered

Open your heart, life and body to allow Real love. Connect with the juicy, sacred, powerful Divine Feminine Energy that you really are.

This is a 6-week class on Wednesday nights – in NW Ft. Collins, CO

We’ll explore the polarization between feminine and masculine energy, talk about how to activate your own feminine energy and stay in that space.

We’ll discuss specific issues you have (or have had) in your relationship(s) and how to resolve them from a powerful, respectful, feminine perspective.

This class is not about manipulating men or any other superficial issues. This class is about celebrating men and women and discovering your own true vulnerable self and being able to live from that place of power.

When we live from that place of authenticity, we can’t help but improve our entire life—including all of our relationships.

​Contact me to reserve your seat – space is limited. ​Details here.

***

Grace is a Certified Hypnotherapist and Registered Psychotherapist in Ft. Collins, CO, USA. She gracethanx2013.3sees clients and facilitates Divine Feminine Hypnotherapy workshops for women. She’s a flaming, Earth-loving, tree-hugging, save-the-bees, believes-in-faeries, bike-riding, card-carrying, spiritual but not religious, hippie cowgirl liberal poet—yep, they do exist. She writes for The Scarlet Orchid and elephant journal. You can find her blog here and her creations here. You can also connect with her on Facebook and Twitter.

Soul Mates

Originally published at elephant journal as Don’t Miss Your Soul Mate Flags

It can be exhilarating to meet a soul mate—that feeling of having known them forever as I look into their eyes is familiar and strange all at the same time.

It can be pleasant, funny, loving and soft. Or it can be like two freight trains colliding head-on. It can also be hauntingly sad.

I have met and loved several soul mates—in many different forms and relationships. Years ago, a soul mate came into my life and only stayed for a few weeks; it was very intense and somewhat confusing. I came home to a Dear Jane letter. I have neither seen nor heard from him again.

One was only in my life for a week or so, before vanishing back into the universe again, exiting my stage to step onto another one somewhere else. This relationship was so intense and immediate, that we burned the karma quickly and completely, no longer romantically/sexually attracted to each other by the end of those short days, but still loved each other.

Upon meeting, we tried to play by society’s rules. We really did. But we couldn’t.

Within a day of meeting we were naked in my house, breathing each other’s breath again, just like before in other places and times. His mouth was familiar, his kisses exquisite; they felt like coming home. I have not had such beautiful, satisfying kisses since. Just the memory of them can make my breath change tempo. couple-stone

As soon as we immediately, easily and mutually rotated into one specific and unusual sexual position, we looked at each other in exposed recognition, “Having you right here, right like this, is all I have been able to think about since I met you yesterday.”

I could only agree. It was exactly how I had seen us together too.

This was a man for whom I had no attraction whatsoever until I looked into his eyes. When I looked at his body, I felt no attraction. When our eyes met each time, however, I fell in love all over again. I quite literally, for the first time in my life, felt weak in the knees every time he looked at me.

All I wanted to do was be as close to him as possible as much as possible. It always felt like he would be taken from me. I felt almost desperate to love him as much and as intensely as possible in what felt like the very short time we had together.

Perhaps needless to say, we spent most of our time together naked—talking, crying, laughing, making love, f*cking; it was intense, beautiful, raw and cathartic.

We split amicably a few days later, having processed through whatever it was we needed to process together. We gave each other those karmic gifts and were done. We did, indeed, it turned out, only have a few days. But this time we were not torn from each other. This time we truly were complete at the end of our time together.

I have come across many soul mates in many different lifetimes over the years. As a hypnotherapist, I find them all the time—mine and for clients too—in past lives and in this current life. So much so, that I had to change my definition of “soul mate” at some point.

wooden couple I now define “soul mate” as a soul with whom I have had so many meaningful encounters in so many other lifetimes and dimensions, that I feel I know them almost instantly upon meeting them again. They feel so familiar, like family, like instant friends. We can play just about any role for each other too: friend, lover, child, grandchild. I think most folks think of soul mates only as lovers, but I have found that is not necessarily the case.

From so many years of working with past lives, it is my understanding that we, as pure souls/energy, get together before each lifetime and kind of plan out how we are going to meet each other. We set up “flags” for ourselves, so that we recognize the significance of the meeting.

A “flag” is anything that happens in our current life that grabs our attention enough to make us stop and take a second look, or make us become aware that we need to pay special attention to someone/thing. Flags often look or feel like déjà vu, or like something weird and surreal. It gets our attention. It causes us to “wake up,” to come up out of the habitual, treadmill, hazy state we usually coast along in.

“I knew I had known you before, because when I saw you, time seemed to slow down and everything was moving in slow motion,” was what one lover said to me, explaining the flag he experienced on seeing me for the first time.

I have met and loved soul mates that feel like friendly companions—like the only reason we agreed to meet again was just because we love and miss each other and want to be together again. We don’t necessarily have any big lessons for each other. We just want to give each other the gift of resting into a nice, easy, calm relationship.

The ones that are heart breaking, though, are the ones where timing is an issue. We meet them as planned, we experience the flag and know it is important, but we have made past decisions that prevent us from being lovers.

It is not that I love my current lover less after I meet a soul mate, but I can very clearly feel the missed opportunity with the soul mate and must accept it—maybe even mourn its passing. I have never broken up with a current lover to be with a new soul mate, but I have been very attracted to and tempted by that idea.

It can be so sad when it happens—to meet them, recognize them and maybe even admit and discuss it with them, but to be unable or unwilling to actually do anything about it.

Brian Weiss, the famous hypnotherapist who has written several books on the subject, writes about this in Only Love is Real, a book about hypnosis and soul mates finding each other again.

When I think of them, those unrequited soul mates, I can still feel the sudden sting of recognition, how my heart seems to fly up out of my chest into the sky when I look into their eyes, followed quickly by the descending realization that we will not be lovers this lifetime, the heartache, and finally the soft longing and sadness that still linger for paths not taken.

Of course you are thinking, “But you can still be friends with them, right?” Yes, that is possible, but I find it can be difficult, because as the friendship grows, so does the longing. Have you ever had a friend that you fell in love with, only to know (or find) that they cannot or do not or will not reciprocate? It is not fun for anyone involved.

My wish for you, Dear Reader? May your flags be obvious and your timing and decisions always impeccable. Godspeed.

 

 

Grace is a Certified Hypnotherapist and Registered Psychotherapist in Ft. Collins, CO, USA. She sees clients and facilitates Divine gracethanx2013.3Feminine Hypnotherapy workshops for women. She’s a flaming, Earth-loving, tree-hugging, save-the-Planet, believes-in-faeries, bike-riding, card-carrying, spiritual but not religious, hippie cowgirl liberal poet—yep, they do exist. You can find her blog here and her creations here. You can also connect with her on Facebook and Twitter.

what others are saying

grace1 july2014I am a Certified Hypnotherapist, Ordained Minister, Registered Psychotherapist, Metaphysical Counselor, Reiki Practitioner, Artist in Fort Collins, Colorado, U.S.A.

I offer individualized, intuitive sessions for clients and facilitate Divine Feminine Hypnotherapy workshops for women.

Here’s what others (clients, peers, workshop participants) are saying:

     “I’ve had the privilege of knowing and working with Grace Cooley for about a year now. In this time I’ve gotten to meet and work with the women who seek her help in being open to their Divine Feminine. These women have achieved a level of awareness and personal power that is rare and alluring. In their presence, my masculine energy FEELS their authenticity, vulnerability, and powerful feminine energy.
      The men I coach with relationship issues are yearning to feel that kind energy from their partners. Apparently, Grace has some kind of gift to create experiences for women which allow them to discover and embrace this energy within. Amazing Grace, I say.”
~ Steve Horsmon, Goodguys2Greatmen Coaching, 970. 484. 8241

“Thanks Grace.
I appreciate so much the opportunity to work with you and look deeper into myself to figure out who I am, what I stand for, and how to be the best woman/person I can be.”
S. in Fort Collins, CO

“Hi Grace,
I just wanted to take a minute to let you know how much I enjoyed your Divine Feminine class. We were able to get through stuff that would have taken forever to complete on our own. Being more in touch with my feminine self is such a blessing and the insight I gained from your class was priceless. Thank you so much for putting it together and making us feel safe and secure enough to have such a full experience. Looking forward to an encore.
Love ~ J. in Cheyenne, WY

“Grace’s class has helped me with accessing depths of inner strength, wisdom and direction through hypnosis and group discussion. She has a wealth of techniques, is very intuitive and skillful at bringing inner metaphor into everyday, practical application. My relationships with myself and my spouse are better for having taken the class.”
love you,
~ T. in Fort Collins, CO

“Thank you for being my guide on this journey Grace! It has been so rewarding for me and I believe that I am forever changed because of it.”
With gratitude and love,
~ H. in Fort Collins, CO

“My plate was already filled to the brim when I signed up for the Divine Feminine class with Grace.  I signed up anyway because I felt it was an opportunity I should not miss and I was right. I became a stronger and more empowered woman, which is always a good thing.  And at the same time, my heart is more open and filled with more love than it’s been in a long time!  I’m so grateful I took the class!  Grace and the class were amazing!”                                                              ~ B. in Fort Collins, CO

Contact info:  cooley.grace@gmail.com

the first phone conversation, or the fine art of penis thrusting

In which I continue to reveal what I learned from a dating website scam

The First Phone Conversation

The first thing that was obvious was his very thick accent. He had already told me, via the dating site, that he was originally from Poland (and yes, this sparked some suspicion). The accent was so thick, in fact, that I had a horrible time understanding him. Which made me want to giggle, 1stphone3both because I was so bloody nervous and also because that was a classic situation, right? You know how when you are talking to someone that, for whatever reason, you can’t understand, and you’ve asked “what?” and “say again, please” and “excuse me?” so may times that it becomes embarrassing and you just end up saying nothing, smiling and nodding knowingly? Only there was no way that would work, because it was a GD phone conversation. Gawd! What to do?! And besides the accent, he was mumbling. I kept wanting to tell him to speak up, but resisted the urge. Instead, I muddled through as best I could and tried to be polite.

“How was your day?”—finally! Something I could understand!

“Well, I was pretty nervous all day, knowing you were gonna call, so I had a good, but nervous, day, I guess.” I laughed at the memory of my day, making fun of myself. He laughed gently too, which scored him some points in my book—both the laughter and the gentle part.

I had been alone in the small office where I work downtown, which happens sometimes and which I like, being the introvert that I am. I get my work done much more easily when no one is around. I like being alone much of the time. (Okay, don’t even get me started on that conversation. The one about why, if I love being alone so much, I’m on a dating website.)

I love being alone because I can be myself, which, especially at my no-longer-a-Spring-chicken age, is often just down right goofy. I have a lot of fun. I laugh at myself out loud—at my own wacky, creative thoughts, w??????????hen I mistype on the keyboard and type some crazy, significant, subconscious, synchronistic thing. When the solution to some long-standing problem suddenly pops into being inside my universe and it was so GD obvious, but I couldn’t see it until now. When I’m typing a word at the same time a song I’ve never heard is saying that same word, etc.

I also cry a lot when I’m alone—with joy, with sorrow, with whatever is happening around and inside me at that moment. Being alone gives me the freedom to live right in the present moment and be able to react to it and experience it out loud.

One minute I’d be laughing at myself, the next minute I’d sit and make myself breathe deliberately and calm myself for a few seconds. Then I’d think of his promise to call later and jump up, yelling obscenities, and laugh, “Oh my gawd, what am I doing?! He is actually gonna call me today! And what the hell are we gonna talk about, anyway?!” At which point I would make a flustered mental note to get back online to the dating site before the call and check out his profile again to see what common interests we had so that I could make notes and use them during the call.

“Oh my gawd, what are you doing, Gracie!?” was the theme of that day, and I laughed at myself each time, knowing this was exactly what I wanted and had asked the Universe for. “So just buck up, my dear Gracie, and do it,” I told myself repeatedly, loving and hating, at the very same time, that nervous, anticipatory stomach flutter.

I kept the phone close to me when I got home, not wanting to miss his call. I changed clothes, ate something and began checking emails, as usual. A friend who was aware of my Divine Feminine (DF) journey had sent me a link to a blog post by a woman who was explaining—in 1stphone4hilarious and all too-familiar detail—why she couldn’t fuck spiritual guys—or rather, she explained, why they couldn’t fuck her. I recognized almost every man I had ever been with in that post. I clicked around her blog and was totally groovin’ on it so that when the phone rang, I was reading an awesome—and extremely well detailed—post directed at men about penis thrusting techniques during sex. 1stphone5

“Oh shit! Oh shit! Oh shit! Oh shit!” as I fumbled the phone a few times and dropped it on the bed where I was sitting with my laptop. I finally got it answered and to my ear. I glanced at the laptop screen and, oh shit!, slammed it shut and tried to focus on the call.

“Crap, how bloody desperate do I look?” I thought, sitting here alone getting horny reading a blog about thrusting techniques. (Although in my defense and to be fair to her, it was a great post, was right on, and everyone really does need to know these things. I had been thinking how I totally agreed with everything she was saying and wishing I could send this link to everyone everywhere without it seeming too weird. Plus it had some super hot photos to go with it.)

When I first got on the dating website and men were requesting I talk to them, I nervously admitted to my friend Jo that I didn’t know if I could do this or not. And I meant do it differently than I used to. She had been privy to my DF journey, to my realization that I wasn’t happy with my life and then to the decision to change that. The last two years had been filled with learning,  1stphone2practicing, relearning, research, practice, tears, laughter, practice, be around men, practice, be a vessel of praise for the masculine, practice, allow, change my energy from defensive and combative and masculine (practice) to allowing and feminine—still powerful, but now open too, and practice.

Did I mention the practice thing?

She watched me struggle, cheered me on when I got stuck or angry or depressed. So at some point, one day when she was at my house, I clicked on the dating site and showed her the three bachelors. That one, she pointed at Bachelor number two, confirming my own feelings about the three main choices.

So here I was, sitting on my bed in sock feet, fumbling the phone, trying to decipher the thick (and quickly becoming, sexy) accent of a possible gentlemen suitor, having just closed the laptop on a blog about sexual thrusting techniques. So when he asked quite innocently, and really, the perfectly good getting-to-know-you, conversation-generating question of, “What were you doing when I called?” I had to roll my eyes.

ilovelucyThat was a perfect example of my life. It generates endless opportunities for me to laugh at myself. Most days I feel like I am living in an episode of I Love Lucy.

“Fuck me, how am I gonna get out of this?!” was my instant, panicked thought. It should be known right here that I am a sucky liar. It is not that I lack imagination; I have plenty of imagination—I’m an artist. I just can’t pull it off. I feel guilty, and it is always obvious.

And, I am no prude when it comes to love and sex. In fact, in my exploration of the DF/DM polarities, I had made a point to study everything I could that was related to sex and relationships.

As a Hypnotherapist and months ago, I had even begun facilitating workshops based on the information I had uncovered. I knew it would propel my own DF journey swiftly forward to be surrounded by women doing the same thing. But Bachelor number two didn’t know any of this 1stphone1about me, and I reasoned that the first conversation with someone is probably not the best time to dump all this info on him. And being an introvert doesn’t necessarily mean I’m shy. I am not shy. I can talk to just about anyone about just about anything—including sexual thrusting techniques.

But the fact that this was the first time I’d ever talked to him and that I’d met him on a dating website to begin with and because it was just too much of a cliche’ that a no-longer-a-Spring-chicken woman who already had those two things happening in her life right now, at this very moment, was on what anyone (admit it, you’re thinking it too) would call a “soft porn” (and totally awesome!) blog site at the time of his first call, was just too much—even for me.

I tried to lie. I really dchurch of the dogid try. I have dozens of books on my bedside table—To Kill a Mocking Bird; The Secret Life of Bees; The Green Pharmacy; Eat, Pray, Love; Bach Flower Remedies; The Portable Walt Whitman; Church of the Dog; Hold on to Your N.U.T.s; the list could go on—all in varying categories of having been read, reread, skimmed, dog-eared, underlined, underlined with notes, etc. I could have been reading when the phone rang.

I could have said I had been reading poetry—ee cummings, perhaps; he’s there too. I even have several movies on that same nightstand. I could have been watching Eat, Pray, Love for the thousandth time, You’ve Got Mail, Practical Magic. I tried to come up with something pithy and funny that would be distracting and amusing (at which I am usually very good)—something to change the subject.

Instead, what came out of my mouth, in my usual just-spill-your-guts fashion was, “Okay, I’m busted,” as calmly as possible and in a I’m-busted tone of voice, “I was looking at a blog post about…” my mind in its nervous state was still valiantly trying to save the situation, “…sex,”—and failing. Okay, so I’d managed to save a bit of face there, though, because I hadn’t mentioned the whole “thrusting techniques” thing. Good job, brain! Even for that little bit of a reprieve, I was relieved and happy. But still…

To my extreme relief, and after a too-long-for-my-comfort pause, I heard laughter hit my ear—loud and plenty of it. At some point in there, I joined him, because that’s what I’d wanted to do in the first place anyway. And that’s what I’d have done if I’d been alone with the situation. In that laughter, I felt a bond forming between us, uniting us—because he understood why that was so funny—and so ridiculously human and real.

His laughter finally slowed to a chuckle, “I like that you are so honest with me,” that sexy accent thing again. To which I could only answer with another eye roll, “Yes, I am honest.”

He had no idea about my type of honesty—the type that when someone asks, “What are you thinking about?” I just start in and really tell them. I liken it to mentally/emotionally/verbally throwing up on people. And to be clear, I am always kind in my verbal throwing up. I’m not the type to say things that might be hurtful. In fact, when I know I’ve got to have that type of 1stphone6conversation, I revert to Rule #3: Don’t throw up on them. Don’t say anything until you’ve thought about it very carefully, Gracie, to find a way to say it kindly, calmly and in an adult, assertive but not aggressive, way. I am so careful about that.

So I added, “But I’m always kind in my honesty.” And then silently cringed because as that was spilling out of my big mouth, I remembered one of his emails where he’d said he was looking for a woman who was gentle and kind. So now it was sounding like I was trying to tick off all the items on his “perfect woman” list. And gawd damn it! I’d forgotten to get back online before this call to see what our mutual interests were and make that list, anyway!

Message from me to him via the dating site after our call

May 30th
Hi Michael,
Thanks for the phone call. It was enjoyable talking to you. Here is my email address.

what I learned from a dating website scam—about myself, about men

I feel like I actually won, somehow, because while he got no money from me, I came out on the other end of a scam feeling empowered and richer.

I was recently scammed via a dating website. I won’t mention which one it was—mainly because it doesn’t matter. When I told close friends about the scam, many of them said it had also happened to them on various other dating websites—so the site itself is not the issue.scam2

I’m also not going to discuss any of the “red flags” I noticed during this experience but ignored for various, probably self-deceptive, reasons – because that would only give scammers ideas about how to improve the scam. But I am going to talk about what I learned.

Because I learned a lot.

There’s a lot of information circulating right now about Masculine and Feminine energy. Women are learning how focused and goal-oriented men are. And women are beginning to understand that this is a big turn-on. There is nothing so sexy as a focused, self-directed man who is going after what he wants – whether it’s a woman, that new job or the big, cosmic, spiritual goal of living his life with scam6integrity, purpose and clarity.

It is simply a massive turn-on to be around a man who is living for himself first and putting all other things second—including me. Steve Horsmon says it well in his GoodGuys2GreatMen blog post. “The truth is, a woman can not help but honor a man who first honors himself by having the integrity to stand for and live by his values.”

I was surprised and extremely relieved that within minutes of publishing my dating website profile, several men already wanted to connect with me. Sometime within the last two years, while I’d worked on my own issues, I had made a new rule for myself. I don’t initiate anything with men. They must make first contact. It was a good rule, trust me.

In those two years I had, once again, taken a serious look at my life, and I didn’t like what I saw. And I believed that if I didn’t like something about my life, I had the ability to change it. I had done it before. I was determined to do it again. I began by exploring and changing the only thing I have absolute power over: what I believe, think and say.

When I looked back at all my romantic relationships, I found that I was always the person to initiate the exchange. In fact, I was usually the person pushing frantically to make it happen. Consequently, I had always been in relationships with very passive men—which I then proceeded to bully into being more masculine. Gawd, I can’t tell you how very embarrassing that was to admit to myself!

I could see that I had always put myself in a self-protected, dominant “masculine” place on the masculine to feminine spectrum. From my research, I began to understand that Feminine and Masculine energies are always seeking polarization and balance. Like the poles on a magnet, like repels like and opposite poles attract. It was no wonder, then, that I had always attracted sensitive, passive, or even “feminine,” men.scam3

I began to pay attention to my own energy and beliefs associated with the masculine and feminine. When searching for why I was so resistant (and even hostile) to receiving men’s masculine gifts/energy, I had to go back to childhood. I realized it was not safe in my childhood to appear “weak” or “less than” by receiving help from anyone—especially from males.

My adult rejection of Masculine gifts was founded upon good reason (survivor of abuse), but had become a defensive, knee-jerk habit that no longer served me. I started by taking the emotional charge off the originating source. And yes, it was painful and difficult to look at and heal.

So having done my work—and still doing my work (lordy, does it ever end?), I was confident I was ready to let men, and the Universe, lead. I just wasn’t so sure how that would look.

I did still have moments of panic, when I wondered if I was truly ready and if I could live the lessons I’d learned or not—but mostly, I was excited to begin something totally new for me: the art of embodying the Divine Feminine and of allowing. After many months of research and healing, I certainly needed the practice of walking around in my new, allowing skin, so I stepped carefully and introspectively into this dating website. I occasionally freaked-out a bit and thought of removing my profile, but I ignored that sensation every time it came up, rallied and kept moving forward.

I let men initiate every connection I made on the dating site. So when one of the men suggested he call me and email me instead of using the site’s messaging system, I liked that he was taking charge of the situation and moving things forward. I agreed and gave him my phone number and email address.

His energy during our first phone call was obvious. I liked it. It was focused, direct. I could tell he had a mission. The mission seemed clear to me. I like this woman. Get to know this woman. During the next few days, he asked direct questions, he expressed interest in me and my life, we laughed a lot together. We were soon talking twice a day, in the morning to start our day and in the evening, before going to sleep. We were also emailing often.

scam1I woke up every morning, remembered and smiled. I could feel my heart sigh happily, expanded and relaxed, felt it stretch inside my chest like a big fat tabby cat with a full belly and nowhere to go. I languished. I turned to greet the sun each morning warming the bed through the window and imagined seeing his sleeping form beside me. I imaged waking him gently and slowly with kisses that would start on the back of his broad neck (he had sent photos of a man—some included a son—another scam victim?). I’d work my way up to his ear and then pull myself up and over him, so that I’d be lying in front of him, still kissing him easily—on the eyelids, the nose…

He would grumble, then smile as he came back up from the deep and pull me closer with a sleepy laugh. I craved that familiarity with him, that habit and ease of intimacy. Every sunrise, upon waking, I was hopeful and happy and imaged some form of this perfect morning. But he wasn’t there yet, and I liked that too, liked the thick anticipation of it. I didn’t want him there too soon.

I loved the feeling of walking around every day knowing we were falling in love with each other as we talked on the phone and emailed each other. I felt like we were becoming a team, and I loved the feeling of him having my back, of having someone who adored me. I felt safer in the world, knowing we were coming together as a couple. With these feelings growing inside me, I walked taller every day—stood up straighter, felt powerful, safe and almost smug in his warm regard.

I felt important to him. I felt his masculine, goal-focused energy directed at me, at wooing me. It felt heavenly. I had never felt energy this intense from a man. Partly, I’m sure, because I had never allowed it. Before this, I had made everything happen—not allowing the man to direct anything.scam4

In hindsight, I know the reason that his energy was so intense was because this was how this man made his living.

Men, being men, are often very focused on their career and making money. One of the ways they show love for their woman and family is to make money. This is one of the masculine gifts they bring to the world. The intensity of that focus on career/job is primal, I think, for men. It is one of the strongest urges he has. The scammer took that directed, intense, masculine energy normally reserved for focusing on a career, because wooing women was his career, and focused that energy on me.

scam5He was confident in his abilities, as odious as they were. It must have worked for him before, because I could feel that confidence. I’m not saying I support him or scams. I think it’s petty, deceptive and sociopathic to even attempt to prey on anyone in this manner.

The point I’m making is this: It felt pretty fucking amazing to be the focal point of that type of intense, masculine energy normally reserved for a man’s career. It was like a highly addictive drug that I couldn’t get enough of, for fuck’s sake.

Gentlemen, I have just handed you the keys to the proverbial female kingdom. Lock and load your first 20-round magazine and fire at will. 🙂

Information Men can take away from this Experience

Take that unbelievably amazing, goal-driven, concentrated masculine energy that you usually reserve for making a living and a career and focus it on your woman once in a while. We don’t want you to give up yourself and your life for us—that is extremely unattractive, and we will lose respect for you if you do that. But we do want, on a regular basis, to feel that we are, in that moment (or those twenty minutes), the single most important thing to you.

I’m talking about the concentration and focus that you point at work, your career—that primal energy of survival, because that’s where your next meal is coming from. Focus on us like you do it for a living, like your life depends on it. We can feel the difference.

As women, we understand the courage it takes to be that vulnerable. We have a deep respect for that—especially when it comes from a man.love blue

You become our hero when you do this for us. Because you care enough to really pay attention and then act on it. You know the perfect time to call us, how to touch us, when to tease us and when not to—all because you took that how-can-I-win-this-contract way of thinking and applied it to your wooing of us and turned it into the how-can-I-win-and-keep-her-heart-and-respect way of thinking.

Please lead the way for us, with your strong, directed masculine energy. Because when you offer that to us, it creates a safe place for us inside the protection of your love, your attention. It frees us to be able to do the same for you.

We women, with our seemingly scary, out of control, multi-tasking brains, will know you really see us and hear us when we turn off the hundreds of simultaneous thoughts, when we put down the phone, close the laptop, stop talking, etc., to concentrate on you and give you our undivided attention and vulnerability, when we genuinely open to you.

And when that shared focus becomes a wonderful habit, something that is a part of the normal, everyday way we love and live together? Dude, you have just become a girl’s dream come true right there.

What I am Taking Away from this Experience for Me

I learned that I really can embody Feminine energy. I was able to be the new, feminine person I wanted to be. I learned that I am able to keep my heart open during a budding relationship. At no time during the experience did I become defensive or reactive. I was just relaxed and allowing. I let him direct himself. I directed myself—powerfully and softly.

godess blueAnd while I felt disappointed as soon as the proverbial rug was pulled out from underneath me (which really felt more like a magic carpet ride, in this case), I never felt like I had done anything wrong or stupid. I still have not felt any shame. Because the only thing I was “guilty” of was being authentic, open and vulnerable.

I got to feel what I’ve always been missing and craving without even knowing I had been missing and craving it: to be the occasional, appropriate, single, determined focus of a man’s goal-oriented attention.

The experience gave me an example of how intense that focused, masculine energy could be—and how important and cherished it made me feel to be the recipient of that, how it filled me up to feel that coming from him. I was his goal. It felt stunning. For the first time in my life, I felt that with a confident man’s support and love, I could meet him there and support and love him too—in the healthy, adult, juicy, wild, authentic and close-to-the-bone way I have always wanted to be able to love. scam.8

I feel like I actually won, somehow, because while he got no money from me, I came out on the other end of a scam feeling empowered and richer.

The story continues here with:  The first phone conversation, or the fine art of penis thrusting.

Also published by The Elephant Journal