My arousal! My Arousal! Wherefore art my Arousal BY SUSAN JARVIS
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his is for every woman experiencing menopause, whether that be on the verge, in the thick of it or on the other side. I truly believe that the spark of our passions and desires live within our mind, spirit and heart (our Goddess). Just like a fire will die down when it’s not tended to properly, so will you. You need kindling and oxygen to fan your flames and you can find that in the form of new experiences, knowledge and meeting new people. If this is a struggle for your boundaries or you have experienced trauma, I recommend that you engage with a Sexologist and/or a Psychologist to help guide your path. Love and light, Susan, The Maven. x My clitoris just doesn’t work anymore. It must be broken. As a sex educator, sex consultant, podcast host, and all round friendly ear to the women in my life, I’ve heard many women talk about their lack of interest in sex and that they just don’t feel horny anymore. I get it, I’m in the same boat. I rarely, if ever, get to enjoy that delicious buzz in my clitoris when I was inspired to be sexual (and if that buzz was left unattended it would become exquisitely pleasurable!) Well. I have to say that it has been quite some time since I’ve enjoyed a dance in my pants like that. Like me, most of the women who share the feeling of disinterest in sex, are now experiencing perimeno-
pause or menopause (which is no surprise). This is my story, and I want to share with you what I have learned about my clitoris and my body in the hope that you can rediscover the sexual energy that is lying dormant in your body, because it’s there for the taking. A few years ago, I went from being a very horny, lustful ‘wench’ to someone who had virtually shut up shop on their sexuality. I once thrived on being a hot blooded woman, it gave me confidence and energy knowing that I had a lust for life and lived a life with passion. I wore red lipstick everyday with pride (this was my way of strutting through the World because I was hopeless in heels). I went from feeling euphoric about going to work wearing the smile on my face from the previous night’s orgasm to dragging myself in and feeling like a dried out, old hornbag with a flat battery. My vulva (which I like to call fanny) was as dry as leather, and bloody painful. It took me a while to realise that the sting I felt when I did a wee was because of the micro tears from the friction in my fanny when I walked (think...rub two sticks together to make a fire!!) Holy dooley. I certainly didn’t feel schexy anymore (and that’s ‘sexy’ said in Sean Connery’s voice). I wallowed in misery and mourned the loss of my
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