We sat down on his leather sofa and talked. He brought me chamomile tea. He wanted to discuss why I was there, what my expectations were, and if I had boundaries. This was the first time I had ever talked so openly about my sexual expectations and boundaries with a man. It’s the first time anyone asked. Already it didn’t feel the same way it did with my partner, not in some small part because I was paying him. I felt like I could be honest and open without him judging me. He was there to listen and provide a service. His brow furrowed when he thought a lot. And he was thinking about Larry, his neighbor who took him fishing last Saturday. It excited the hell out of me to see him running his hands all over her body, including her gorgeous ass! Then he asked her to turn over and she did! There she was, with her naked tits and pussy fully exposed to his eyes, and hands. He seemed able to get his hands on nearly every bit of her body's surface. I told myself and others that I was so immersed in Teri’s care because no one else could understand Teri’s medical issues and advocate for her. Mom was a nurse, meanwhile, and had my dad, a radiologist, my brother, also a radiologist, and my aunt, a nurse, for support. But the truth was that I wanted to help and be with Teri more, and she wanted me with her, so I was. Whenever I thought about this, I felt equal parts warrior and betrayer. The massage took a gradual turn from a typical massage to a slow and sensual one without me noticing. I was relaxed and the nervousness gave way to physical pleasure. For an hour and a half, his hands were completely focused on my body. They responded to my breathing. I had multiple orgasms. My body felt things I had never felt before. And I couldn’t touch him. That was the hardest part. I had to focus only on myself and the new things I was feeling.

A few years ago, I stumbled upon an article about a man in New York City who offered highly intimate massages, resulting in dozens of satisfied women. The quotes he listed from women seemed real. The process appeared to be selective. Up until this moment, I had no idea this service actually existed for women, and I instantly felt envious of the women in New York—it was something I needed to have. His mind re-lived events from last Saturday when Larry took him fishing. It had been a perfect day. "This is really neat," Kenny had said, eyes dancing with excitement. Kenny really liked Larry.I think as women, we’ve been programmed to believe that if we receive pleasure, we have to return the favor. For me, not doing this completely shifted something inside of me. I had a startling moment of empowerment, somewhere in between orgasms, where I realized I was deserving of good things. I was deserving of love and respect. It was delivered under the guise of sensual pleasure. But still it was the same. I deserved to be seen, to be respected, to be loved. I deserved orgasms. But ultimately, I was simply deserving. I felt empowered and incredibly sad at the same time. I don’t know what is going on,” I said quietly, running my fingers along the edge of the sheet, my eyes filling. “I don’t know if this is normal anymore.” He noticed Larry's peaked hat, with the perch fish on its front. Red vest, blue shirt, worn jeans and bare feet completed the picture. Larry's paddle was ready for action. And his eyes seemed at peace with himself. They were always full of laughter. Maybe you shouldn’t have had kids,” Mom said on another one of those endless mornings after Hope was born, standing at my sink in her red capri pants and white Talbots short-sleeve button-down. She was mixing oatmeal for me, the spoon clinking accusingly against the ceramic bowl, her short dark hair falling just so. His eyes took in the pennant from Halifax and pictures of he and mom. Also himself and his buddy Troy, taken at Boy Scout Summer Camp last year.

I can’t say exactly why things were so different that last month before she died. I think at the end of her life and knowing I no longer needed to care for Teri, Mom was able to relinquish her role as “strong mother” and just be herself, a dying woman who wanted her daughter’s help. And I was able to respond, in part because Teri’s love had finally quieted that little part of me that always wondered whether I was enough. So I was able to simply love Mom instead of demanding more than she could give. To himself he said softly, "OK dad, I'm ready now. Let's go." And he felt good inside as his paddle dipped in the water... For me (and so many other women), it took paying for a sensual massage to finally believe that we’re all truly deserving of more than the status quo—in and out of bed. She retrieved a blanket from the closet and placed it over him. He groaned softly, letting out some of his tension. The sound drifted as if from a far-away planet. For this week’s Mom Talk, writer and mom Anna Diaz gets deeply personal, opening up about how she researched and eventually ended up paying for a sensual massage—yep, pretty much a “happy ending”-type situation. But beyond the fascinating details of the session itself, it’s the self-realization that the intimate experience inspired in her that proved to be truly life changing.But it wasn't all. He missed having a dad, and he was glad his face was turned away as moisture gathered on his cheeks. He wasn't crying, not really. He felt like a traitor for even pretending Larry was his dad. It wouldn't be so bad if James didn't have to work all the time. He never took him anywhere. And he's so strict. Kenny continued to look out the window as his mind raced along on a merry-go-round of memories. Kenny stretched, then turned on his side. His memories were like a movie reel. The best part was yet to come. I knew it! I just knew it!" he exploded. "Why didn't you ask me how I might feel?" Without giving his mother a chance to answer Kenny grabbed his schoolbooks and rushed out of the room.

She and I exchanged glances and my message to her was that it would be okay for this man to give her a massage. She asked what she should wear and he said "As little as you feel comfortable with, preferably nothing!" Again, after exchanging glances, she started taking her clothes off, while the young man prepared the table and his oils. Then she stretched-out, naked, on the table, face-down. Right now the stars were bright, their luminous eyes keeping him company. He could see the Big Dipper or ‘Ursa Major’ as he learned in school. It was at that point that I made a great decision. I told my wife that I had just remembered a meeting I needed to go to and would have to leave. I asked what his fee was and gave him the money, plus another twenty, and told him to "do whatever she needs". Now his dreaming relived that awesome trip last weekend to Economy Lake, ten miles north of Bass River village.I did some intense personal work immediately after. I read books. I saw a therapist. I asked myself the hard questions, and I realized I was deeply unhappy. A month or so after my massage, I had the difficult conversation with my partner that I wasn’t happy. I didn’t feel seen or respected. We tried to make it work, but a few months later we began the transition to end our relationship. I’ve been single for about three years. We’re co-parenting wonderfully and great friends. I’ve just recently started dating again, and I’m going in fully aware of my needs and having done the self-work. I also know that I’m not interested in casual sex without a connection.