Were You Faking It?
One of the most commonly asked questions.
It's a question I've been asked more than a few times over the years.
"Were you faking it?"
For the longest time, my internal response was always the same:
"If you have to ask... I probably was."
Not because I think I'm impossible to please, but because I've always believed that if someone is truly present with me, they usually don't leave wondering. They were there. They felt me. They experienced the same moments I did.
But somewhere over the last few years, my perspective softened. I realized that a lot of men aren't asking this question because they're looking for reassurance that they're amazing in bed. They're asking because they're genuinely unsure. And honestly... I have a lot more compassion for that now.
Being intimate with someone whose job exists within fantasy can blur reality for people. You start wondering what's genuine and what's part of the experience. Was she really into it? Was that laugh real? Was she actually turned on? Did she enjoy kissing me? Was she just being nice?
I can understand why those thoughts creep in. Maybe it comes from a past relationship where you questioned whether your partner desired you. Maybe it's years of hearing jokes about women faking orgasms. Maybe it's pornography creating impossible expectations about what women "should" look and sound like when they're aroused. Or maybe no one has ever told you how women's bodies actually work.
Because here's the thing...
There's also something we don't talk about nearly enough. Women, statistically, take longer to reach orgasm than men. Research consistently shows that most women are unlikely to orgasm from penetration alone, and that clitoral stimulation is the primary pathway to orgasm for the majority of women. Depending on the study, only about 20–30% of women report regularly reaching orgasm through penetration alone, while the vast majority say clitoral stimulation is necessary or significantly increases the likelihood of climax.
Now think about that for a second.
You've booked an hour. Maybe we've never met before. We're learning each other's personalities, communication styles, bodies, rhythms, comfort levels, and nervous systems in real time. And somewhere in the back of your mind you've decided that if I don't orgasm during that hour, you've somehow failed. That's an incredibly heavy expectation to carry!
The truth is, some women need more time. Some need more emotional safety. Some need more communication. Some need different kinds of stimulation. And some simply aren't going to orgasm every single time they have an intimate experience. That's not broken. That's not failure. That's being human.
One of the biggest lessons my Somatica training has taught me is that we spend so much time trying to figure out what someone else is feeling that we completely abandon our own experience.We stop making love. We stop connecting. We stop kissing, laughing, breathing, exploring, and becoming curious.
Instead, we start collecting evidence.
"Did she moan enough?"
"Did she shake?"
"Did she finish?"
"Was that real?"
Ironically, the more we monitor an experience, the harder it becomes to actually have one. Presence gets replaced by performance. Curiosity gets replaced by certainty. Connection gets replaced by evaluation. And pressure has a funny way of making bodies do the exact opposite of what we want them to do. That doesn't mean I particularly enjoy being asked if I was faking it. If anything, it's one of the few questions that can instantly pull me out of what we just shared.
I'm an incredibly vocal lover. Sometimes it's words. Sometimes it's sounds. Sometimes it's the way I breathe, laugh, grab you, melt into you, or simply look at you. Staying quiet has honestly always been harder for me than expressing myself. So when someone asks me afterward if I was faking it, there's this tiny moment of disconnect. Not because I'm offended. Because I'm confused. I start wondering what they missed that made them doubt everything we just experienced together.
Then I remind myself... Maybe it wasn't about me at all. Maybe it was about never feeling chosen. Maybe it was about wondering if they were enough.
And while I don't think anyone can ever know with absolute certainty what another person is feeling internally, I do think we miss something important when we become so consumed with trying to verify someone else's experience that we stop paying attention to our own.
Were you connected?
Did you feel present?
Did you notice her body responding to yours?
Did you notice your own?
To me, the better question has never been,
"Were you faking it?"
It's...
"Did we connect?"
Because if the answer to that question is yes, you'll usually leave with a lot fewer doubts.
And if the answer is no...
An orgasm probably wasn't what was missing in the first place.
One of the greatest gifts my somatic training has given me is the understanding that pleasure isn't something we extract from another person's body. It's something we co-create through presence, curiosity, safety, and attunement. Sometimes that ends in orgasm. Sometimes it ends in laughter, deep conversation, or simply feeling seen. None of those outcomes are failures. In fact, some of my most memorable intimate experiences had nothing to do with climax at all.
(Disclaimer: The statistics discussed above describe population trends, not individual experiences. Every body is different, and there is no "normal" way to experience pleasure.)