I had an amazing time with journalist Ana P. Santos on her podcast titled Middle Me: Stories about Sex and Pleasure After 40. We talked about this rollercoaster ride I’m on from the moment I discovered my sexuality through decades of exploration in sex and relationships as a polyamorous pornographer.
Of course we talk about sex. We talk about porn. We talk about relationships. But also, we talk about family. And we talk about aging and body image. Have a listen.
Our interview is spread out over two episodes:
I also love that one of my longtime MAYCAM members, who happens to be a physician, reacted to this quote from the podcast:
“Physiologically, the reason you’re still ‘wet’ and not having issues with dryness nor menopausal symptoms is actually due to the ‘use it or lose it’ scenario. Believe it or not, i) the more skin-to-skin intercourse you have while going through menopause causes hypertrophy and healing to prevent vaginal wall atrophy (meaning if you were less sexually active, your vagina would start to atrophy); ii) high semen exposure inside the vagina stimulates high concentrations of estrogen, progesterone, and other important hormones to women. The vaginal wall and uterus absorbs estrogen 10x more effectively than if estrogen is given orally or even intravenously. Your ongoing sexual activity with vaginal creampies was doing the equivalent of prometrium (hormone replacement therapy directly to the vagina).”
So let’s get it, my Golden Girls! We owe it to ourselves and our lovers to let our sexual experience and emotional maturity bloom well into our senior years. We are not too old to have sex. It is natural and healthy to have mind blowing sex after menopause.
Cheers! 🍷
P.S. I made you a playlist for tonight. Gaze at the total lunar eclipse super flower moon while listening to these moon tunes on Spotify. 🌸
After “Is there life on Mars?” Gen-X women are asking google about sex. I answered some of them, but before you proceed, I want to remind you that I am not a doctor, sex therapist, or sex educator. My answers are based on my own personal experience of fucking a lot and fucking up a lot. Read on at your own risk.
How much sex should a 40-year-old woman have?
Throw “should’s” out of the window. Have as much or as little sex as you want. This includes self-pleasure.
How does your sex drive change at 40?
Every body is different. For me I became hyper-sexual, like I felt like I had to use it or lose it, like I was going to run out of sex appeal and I had to get as much sex as I could while I still could for fear of missing out. My husband and I were also going through a crisis in which we had to unpack all the emotional and sexual baggage that accumulated from 25 years of non-monogamous marriage while making more mistakes as we went along. (To cut a long story short, it was crazy and painful.) I am now approaching my 50s with temperance, and yes, still sexually active, but hopefully more sane about it.
Any cures for vaginal dryness? What is a good lubricant?
Most people would recommend lube, but I have a different take on this. I think it’s fine once in a while, but not habitually, not regularly, certainly not daily. Hear me out. Our bodies, if we are healthy and hydrated, should create as much moisture as we need. Using lube habitually may throw off our balance and trick our bodies into slowing down natural lubrication because our bodies think we are already wet enough. This also applies to moisturizers, lotions, and nutritional supplements. My suggestion to keep your vag (and the rest of your body) moist is to hydrate, hydrate, hydrate. Drink lots of water. Use old fashioned spit, your partner’s and yours, during foreplay. Between spit and your own pussy juice, you should be good to go. If your body is not quite there yet and you’re desperate for a good time, go for your kitchen (food-grade) coconut oil. Transfer a little bit of it to a different container, obviously, and take that to the bedroom with you. Food-grade because it’s better quality than the body product version of coconut oil. (The FDA does not regulate cosmetics and body products, including lube. That’s why I regard it with skepticism.) Good luck.
Can you still orgasm after menopause?
Yes, yes, yes!
Am I too old to try ___?
Today you’re younger than you’re ever going to be.
– Regina Spektor
Why can’t I get in the mood?
What’s really on your mind? Stress from work-related or relationship issues can be a dampener on fun and pleasure. Deal with those issues that are weighing heavily on your mind by talking it out or writing down an action plan. Often this is enough to allow yourself to relax and enjoy intimate moments.
Why do I get a bladder infection every time I have sex?
Bumping privates 🤣 can bring microscopic particles, microorganisms, and semen into our urethras which could cause infection. You need to pee after sex. Non-negotiable. No matter how sleepy you are, hoist yourself out of bed and go to the toilet.
How to increase your libido.
What makes you think that you need to increase your libido? Every body is different. Don’t judge your sexual needs against other people’s. Focus on connecting with your partner, not on how high or low your libido is.
My partner wants to have more sex than I do.
Have you considered opening up your relationship? Letting your partner hook up with someone else is just another way you can express love. Explore the concept of non-monogamy, figure out where your boundaries are, and communicate clearly with each other.
How to have sex when you’re tired.
Don’t. You need to rest when you’re tired. Do it when you have energy.
Everything in this photo is over 40. See the rest of this set at maycam.com
Shortly after Lilith: Queen of the Demons was published Jay and I became friends with a young woman named Lillian. She had straight black hair down to her waist, an hourglass figure, and a pretty smile. She used to visit weekly, always dressed impeccably from head to toe. She and Jay spent a lot of time together, cooking and baking all kinds of goodies. They were friends and sometimes they were lovers.
When Lillian was a baby in Vietnam, she suffered a fire injury that required her to undergo surgery. The operation left her without a belly button for the rest of her life. Just like Lilith, who was not born of a human mother, fashioned out of clay by God.
It was uncanny and I thought it auspicious to have her in our lives. There was a point when she began looking for a house to buy in which we could all live together, but it all changed when she met someone else. They got married in a whirl. We never saw her again.
I will always consider her arrival as an otherworldly presence. The divine moves in mysterious ways. I cannot begin to fathom it. I can only be thankful when it happens.
Another strange visitation occurred when I was recording the audiobook for Lilith: Generations of Cain. I didn’t notice it while I recorded, but during playback the angel and demon names were obscured by static.
The first time it happened I got a shiver down my spine. I took a pause, then went back in front of the microphone like a soldier. Every time it happened I got more stubborn and determined to get through the text. Lilith: Generations of Cain is all about the power of names. It seemed to me that a presence, divine or not, was making me work hard to pronounce these holy and unholy names.
This past summer as I worked on Lilith: Beyond the Deluge, I was on a business call with someone who went off tangent about strange situations he had found himself in, seeing supernatural creatures among people in New York City, hearing people’s thoughts from across the room. He said he felt like he could tell me these things he never told anyone. I listened to him for an hour before I wrapped up the conversation and brought it back to business. I asked for his name.
“Michael.”
“You have an ‘el’ name,” I mused. Many of the angels (and some demons) have names that end with ‘el.’ Azazel, Samael, Rafael, Gabriel, Baraqiel, Daniel, Michael…
“Ah, so you know…” He sounded pleased. “It comes from God’s name ‘El Shaddai’ and ‘Elohim.’”
I thanked him again and said goodbye.
Before he hung up he said, “You will hear from me again.”
I thought nothing of it. Even when I pulled out of the garage and saw a crow sitting in a tree across from me I didn’t think to tie anything together.
I should mention that it was a special day, my Dad’s birthday and my (great grand aunt) Lola Ilyang’s death day. I facetimed with my Dad that evening, but the only way I connected with Lola Ilyang was from mysterious events that happened all day: a swarm of bees robbing my hive, the phone call from an angel, the crow in the tree. Everything brought me memories of her.
Laurelia (Lola Ilyang) was a spinster who lived with her little dachshund, Cupsi, in a hut in the middle of a tobacco field in Pangasinan. She was the first witchy woman in my life. She had long salt and pepper hair. She told stories of the kapre smoking her tobacco. She entertained our maids by reading common playing cards for divination.
Ten days after the odd phone call, my mother tagged me in a Facebook post. My college friend died. Deogracias Cruz. Is there a name more God-like than his? The Facebook post contained a video of Deo singing the Prayer to St. Michael.
“Saint Michael the Archangel, defend us in battle. Be our protection against the wickedness and snares of the devil; May God rebuke him, we humbly pray; And do thou, O Prince of the Heavenly Host, by the power of God, thrust into hell Satan and all evil spirits who wander through the world for the ruin of souls. Amen.”
The man on the phone said I would hear from him again. I did not know it would be this way.
That afternoon Jay invited me out to the temple he had built in our backyard, overgrown with yarrow and lupines in the spring; tansy, mint, and goldenrod in the late summer. Jay spent the summer clearing around an arrangement of rocks and made paths to it. He decorated the place with Hindu gods and goddesses, Balinese wooden animals, and a statue of Quan Yin. There is a bed of marbles of various sizes, a solar system at the foot of a wooden frog. A Nag Champa cone burned and dripped smoke down a path in the rocks. As soon as the incense burned out, it started to rain. Thunder. We went inside.
I made chicken soup from scratch. It’s a long process that begins with boiling a chicken carcass into broth. My daughter named it “Mama’s famous chicken soup” way back when a butcher in California used to gift me with chicken carcasses whenever I came around his shop. I set aside a wishbone for my collection. I keep several wishbones in a little teapot. I realize it’s kind of witchy but it makes me feel lucky.
Not gonna lie, I struggled with this year’s Birthday Nude. The entire process was discomforting. I found myself being hypercritical of my aging body. I booted up my images in Lightroom and moved the texture slider all the way to the left to smooth out my spongy middle. I sent the images to Photoshop and cloned my wrinkles and belly folds away. Then in a fit of frustration I closed them all up unsaved.
For the Birthday Nude series to stay relevant in the years to come I’m going to have to post these photos unedited as I always have or I won’t do them at all.
If I continue, I will have to confront my naked self, not just my aging body. My emotional reactions reveal so much of who I am. Posting it publicly adds another layer of confrontation. I will have to ask myself the hard questions. How do I feel? Why do I feel this way? Do I feel shame? What am I ashamed of?
I have come to an age when I am proud of who I am and where I’m at in life. That doesn’t mean I look at my body with rose-colored glasses. As someone who has spent decades creating media with my body, I can look at images of myself with objectivity.
In these photos I wear nothing but make-up. I have not given in to temptations of botox or cosmetic surgery. Yet. Maybe never. I don’t know. No judgement on those who do. I haven’t dyed my hair since four months ago and I’m liking the streak of gray growing out of the right side of my hairline.
I enjoyed celebrating my birthday this year. I feel like I’ve been celebrating for weeks now, random presents, time spent with people I adore.
I look at my healthy, beautiful, smart, and talented daughter and feel successful as a mother. Mothering my child has been top priority for the past fifteen years. Everyone and everything else took the back seat. It’s worth it. I invested my time and energy wisely. Now I’m opening myself up to mothering more of the world.
My co-parent, business partner, artistic collaborator, lover, my Man. How I love my Man. We’ve been through so much, good times and nightmarish ones. For so long I’ve taken him for granted, thinking he doesn’t need my mothering because he’s eight years older than me, bolder than me, everything more than me. I was wrong. We’re holding on for dear life and rediscovering who we are to each other at each stage of the game.
College boy somehow slipped in as one of my favorite people on this planet. We’ve known each other for years and he knows most sides of my compartmentalized life. During those moments when my Man was too emotionally involved in the situation to be my friend, my boy took me in his arms and told me he’s got me. I take care of him, too.
And you… I appreciate you. Thank you for coming along on my journey.
May Ling Su birthday nude in the barn hayloft, sitting on a vintage World War II army cot.
This year marks my 20th birthday nude. We shot at home. The photo above was taken in the barn hayloft, an amazing play space when it’s warm enough. It’s a reminder to seize the moment. Winter is coming. Life goes by way too fast. My time is limited. Soon we will have to leave our 169-year-old haunted farmhouse that we’ve made even more haunted with vintage treasures. I’m a little sad to go, but excited to begin once more.
The photo above was taken in the backyard, lush with wildflowers and this abundant hydrangea bush. It’s a sanctuary for birds, bees, and butterflies. Snakes and mice. Chipmunks and squirrels. The best approach to mothering nature is to let it be wild (also applies to mothering humans).
This past year I’ve been spending a lot of time in nature, hiking up mountains and swimming in lakes. This summer I participated in a podcast with Agam, for which they paid me by planting four trees in my name. I intend to plant more trees every year for the rest of my life as part of my legacy.
