My Memories of Betty

My Memories of Betty

“A sister needs our help,” said 87-year-old Betty as she crawled on all fours across the circle and sat next to me. It was my Bodysex certification workshop and we were practicing the breath of fire. To my horror, Betty put her hand on my stomach, my most-hated and...
Finding My Voice

Finding My Voice

Art by Betty Dodson For most of my life, I didn’t feel comfortable speaking up for myself. I was raised to be a “good girl,” to be “seen and not heard”, to “stop crying or I’ll give you something to cry about.” My own thoughts, feelings, and wants were diminished,...
Who is Afraid of Blood?

Who is Afraid of Blood?

Read Monica’s post in French “Monica? Are you listening to me? Could you please repeat what I just said?” – Yes, I do listen. You explained that the verb ‘to be’ and ‘to have’ are auxiliaries in French and… “Ok, Monica, that will be all, thank...
My Dirty Mind

My Dirty Mind

Art by Betty Dodson He smelled like gingerbread. We made small talk as he prepared me for bed. Then he instructed me to lay down on my back and get comfortable. He pulled the covers over my body and tucked me in. “If you need anything just call out my name,” his deep...
Imperfect and Worthy of Love

Imperfect and Worthy of Love

“Do you think maybe it was a mistake to break up?” I said to a former boyfriend during a phone conversation, 3 months after he ended our relationship. I was devastated and unable to heal. He kept calling me. Our relationship had lasted several years, my first real...