Tantric Healing With Rahi: Pt 1

Finding sex work as a person with a vulva is always tricky. The words that cishet men use to search for sexual services are well integrated into our vocabulary. They can search for a “happy ending massage” or “escort services” and come up with useful search results, but when I’ve tried the same, I’ve found the results less than useful for my preferences. It’s easy to find a “woman” who works with penises, but it’s a lot harder to find one who has experience with pleasuring vulvas, and it makes sense. Men are the primary consumers of sex work and women/AFABs are the primary providers. Of course, I always say that stripping is pretty gay-- from the homoerotic atmosphere of a room full of men experiencing arousal together, to the homosocial sorority of the dancers inspecting each other’s bodies and making sure our tampon strings aren’t visible. I’ve found that most sex workers aren’t Straighty McStraightpants. We tend to be open to homoerotic interactions, if not too sapphic to function. I have an extensive network of sex workers I could call upon to provide their services, but it’s tricky. Having a friend jerk you off is a great porno, but perhaps a less palatable option for IRL because it complicates relationships. Maybe this is just a hump I need to get over, because I believe sex serves numerous purposes. There is friendly sex, greeting sex, soothing sex, casual sex, reconnecting sex, reconciling sex, boredom sex, and numerous other permutations, so why not hire a homie for a handjob? However, when pursuing my third happy ending massage, I wanted to go to a stranger I would never have to see again if I wanted.

I began with my usual search term: “tantric sensual massage”. If you have a vulva, these are your keywords to find a happy ending masseuse who isn’t creepy. I typed these words, plus “Los Angeles,” and began perusing my options. A number of bodywork collectives and tantric temples popped up and I browsed the various practitioners. It was an even mix of genders and the practitioners did not specify any sexual preferences. I like how the world of tantra is not rooted in any presumption of straightness-- it is simply a healing service open to any body in need. I scrolled through a number of profiles before finally settling upon Rahi. I thought he was cute, and his website went into detail about the variety of services he offered from therapeutic touch to pelvic massage. I emailed an inquiry and waited for a response.

I didn’t come in looking for healing. I was ovulating and this experiment was birthed from horniness. I am a sex worker, so I do receive a lot of sexual touch, and my regulars would love nothing more than to bring me to climax, but most of my regulars have no idea how to touch me and I’m not inclined to teach them. I wanted to go to a professional who handles this sort of thing on a regular basis, and who already had an arsenal of tools and touch techniques to provide pleasure. I also wanted to have the ability to engage in a one sided interaction: to receive without considering the desires of the person giving me the experience. I constantly provide care and nurturing to my clients. I indulge them without burdening them with my needs because I believe that’s what sex work is about. You get to be selfish. You get to focus on what you want and enjoy that indulgence. You can immerse yourself in touch, being dominated, or getting your nut, and that’s great. I wanted to pay for the chance to be selfish and demanding in my pleasure. It would be all about my boner, and nobody else’s.

Rahi and I scheduled a phone interview to see if we might be a good fit. After the fiasco with Rick Mass-ive-Waste-of-Time, I’ve come to truly believe in the necessity of a video chat prior to any confirmation. I would HIGHLY recommend you go through this step, because a simple video chat is incredibly informative. You find out if you like the practitioner’s voice and mannerisms; if they know what they’re talking about; if their profile pictures are real and current or if they are catfishing you; and how safe you might feel being alone with them.

As soon as I heard Rahi’s voice, I felt like I could trust him. My instincts are usually pretty good when it comes to judging people’s character, and I felt almost immediately that Rahi would be a capable provider. He began the session by asking me to find a comfortable place to sit, and to notice how my body felt. I hadn’t expected to have to stop what I was doing for the call. I was making my bed and generally running around my house doing chores. I’m a busybody. Even when I try to take mental breaks, it takes a monumental effort to keep myself from writing an internal to-do list. I forced myself to pause, sitting on the freshly made bed, and shut my eyes. I began tuning into what I was feeling. The first thing I began to notice was discomfort. I couldn’t find a way to sit and feel at ease. I realized that that discomfort was actually pain. My knees and ankles hurt, and I hadn’t noticed until that moment. Sitting cross legged has always been easy for me. I used to fall asleep in airplanes cross legged in my seat, folding into my own lap. But lately, because of stripping and pole dancing, my knees are a source of constant pain. The pain ranges from a dull ache to sharp pains that cause me to limp. It was alarming to me that I had been experiencing pain, but had overridden what my body was telling me. The realization brought a wave of sadness. How had I gotten to this place? Where was I in my own body? How had I come to accept neglecting myself? Suddenly, my eyes welled with tears. I felt lonely in my body. I felt like I was caring for so many people with my body, only to realize I’d neglected myself. I hadn’t planned to get that emotionally deep, but there I was. I’d wanted to get my nut, instead I got a reality check. I needed more than just a hand job.

Rahi is a Tantric Healer. He offers a variety of services, including “pelvic work”. I decided to ask him more about the more therapeutic side of his practice. I’ve been seeing therapists since I was six years old. I know therapy language and techniques so well that it doesn’t feel like it works for me anymore. All of the normal tools feel like superficial duct tape cures for my hardened trauma. I had burned out with my therapist and thought, why not try this instead? So I asked Rahi what he might recommend if I wanted a more therapeutic offering, and we settled upon a three session bundle, plus an intake call. I didn’t know how I would afford his time. Rahi is not cheap, nor should any body worker under value their time if they’re able to set their rates. I asked him what he normally charged per session, and he disclosed that he usually charges $600 per session. Go Rahi. I could not justify blowing that kind of money. As much as I love being a client, I can’t spend like my clients, especially since my work lately has been sporadic and my profit margin inconsistent.

Rahi was very understanding of my circumstances, and offered to provide his services for free in exchange for me writing about the experience. It was an incredibly generous offer, but I insisted on paying him what I could. I do a lot of unpaid labor, and I will usually try to do my best, but I have often slacked on quality when money isn’t part of the equation, no matter how much I appreciate the project. There comes a point where the work that I’m getting paid for matters more. I feel better. I feel valued, and so I work harder. While I couldn’t afford Rahi’s full rate, I offered to pay him $200 per session, which is a lot for me, because I wanted Rahi to know that I valued his labor. Additionally, I promised to write about the sessions, which I would have anyway. It’s part of my mission: to find and share information to other AFABs looking to purchase body work and sex work from trustworthy providers.

So now I will tell y’all the story of Tantric Healing With Rahi.

Intake

After our weepy first session, I was prepared for emotions to arise during the intake. I prepared myself for repressed feelings to emerge, and possibly leave me emotionally ravaged. I cleared my schedule so that I would have adequate recovery time, should I need it.

Rahi had me start at The Beginning.

Rahi: Tell me about your conception.

I had to reach back into cobwebs of my memories to begin to piece together all the tidbits of information my mother and father had told me through the years.

Me: Well… I’m not exactly sure. My parents got married around Christmas or New Years, I don’t remember at this point, and I was conceived shortly after. My mom really wanted to have a child, and my dad… well, he really wanted to be with my mom.

Rahi: That’s great. It sounds like you were really wanted.

Me: I suppose.

Rahi: Were you her first child?

Me: I was.

Rahi: Did she have a birthing plan?

Me: She did. She had an extensive birth plan with a doula and a midwife.

Rahi: Wow, that’s fantastic. Not a lot of people know about doulas or midwifery.

Me: My mom knew everything she could. She was all about it.

Rahi: What a beautiful thing.

I felt this knot in my throat of things that were missing from the story. Yes, my mom had done her research, but that didn’t make her a good mother. It didn’t make my birth story beautiful. I wanted to assert this, but I decided to wait until prompted.

Rahi: Were you carried to term, or were you born premature?

Me: I was carried to term.

Rahi: That’s great to hear. Was your mother working during the pregnancy?

Me: Uh, she was. She worked at a hospital doing something. I’m honestly not sure.

Rahi: Was she very active at that time?

Me: Yeah, definitely. She used to brag that she could do the middle spits up until the third trimester.

Rahi: That’s impressive. And what was the relationship between your parents like?

Me: Tumultuous. They’re two very… immature people. They were constantly fighting, even from the beginning, especially because my father didn’t want me.

Rahi: Oh, I’m sorry. Did they have you very young?

Me: No. They were both about thirty when I was born. They were fully grown adults.

Rahi: But they were immature?

Me: Yeah. It’s hard to explain.

I felt a little of the residual anger from my childhood welling up in me. I used to tell my mom that she should never have had me. She should never have had kids. I was a selfish choice and I should never have been born. I imagined my mother, pregnant with me, sleeping on the floor of their little apartment in New York because my father didn’t want her. He not only didn’t want her, but he found her pregnant body disgusting.

Rahi: Where were you born? At home? In a hospital? Somewhere else?

Me: I was born in a hospital.

Rahi: Were there any complications?

Me: The doctor completely disregarded my mother’s birth plan and gave her an episiotomy against her wishes. My mom had wanted a completely natural birth. They didn’t care what she wanted.

Rahi: I’m sorry to hear that.

Me: It happens with black and brown mothers.

Rahi: Yes. You’re right. It’s very sad.

I felt more anger than sadness. I knew I couldn’t entirely blame my parents for the web of painful injustices they birthed me into. My mother wanted me. I wasn’t an accident.

She used to tell me the story of when she knew I was inside her. She woke up one night and nudged my father awake to tell him. Somehow she knew, no pregnancy test, she had a life growing inside her.

Rahi: And after you were born, did your mother breastfeed?

Me: Yeah.

Rahi: For how long approximately? A few months? A year?

Me: For a really long time, like almost two years.

Rahi: Wow that’s incredible! Breast milk is so crucial to infant development and bonding. It’s such an amazing thing that your mother breastfed you for so long.

I felt a bit of my anger subsiding. I was grateful for that. It almost feels comical to be grateful for breast milk, but I’m a science nerd and I know how breast milk is integral to brain development. I know that it probably gave me a lot of developmental advantages I wouldn’t have otherwise had due to the other circumstance of my early life.

My stepfather always says that my mother did the best that she could. My response is: sometimes your best isn’t good enough. But she did. She tried her best.

Rahi asked a few more questions about my family, and about my early forays into sexuality. While internally, I felt the resentful knots of trauma tensing across my body, speaking the generalities felt so mild and innocuous in comparison to my experience. I played with girls my age throughout my childhood, exploring our bodies in innocent ways. I “lost” my “virginity” to my first boyfriend after a year of dating. It was a consensual experience--nothing bad about it. It was loving and idyllic. By the end I felt a confusing mixture of emotions. I felt like I was painting an incomplete picture. How could I feel so much pain and anger, and yet not have that as clear as day in my description? Was I simply over dramatic?

Rahi: And now lastly, I ask everyone to set an intention before we begin. What is it that you’re looking to get out of our time together?

I felt the tightness in my throat again--the closure of my breath and voice. I wanted to speak, but I didn’t know how.

Me: I want to work on communicating what I need.

Rahi: Perfect. We can definitely center our practice around building communication.

Rahi laid out the plan for the following three sessions and explained his methodology in detail. I was excited. I didn’t know what to expect, even though he had somewhat clearly laid it out. I’d come in looking for a happy ending massage, and instead found a wormhole of something very different, and yet maybe exactly what I didn’t know I needed.