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Uploaded:2017-12-13
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I'm moving out of my office and Sexplanations is getting a shiny new set. To honor this transition I share what it has been like having clinical sexology spaces where I see clients and host the show -- a little history lesson on where I've been as I continue to go forward.


Dr. Doe's contact info:
TWITTER : https://twitter.com/elleteedee
TUMBLR : http://tumblingdoe.tumblr.com
FACEBOOK : https://www.facebook.com/sexplanations
DFTBA : https://store.dftba.com/collections/sexplanations
Support Sexplanations by becoming a sexpla(i)naut: https://www.patreon.com/sexplanations
[whip cracking sound, throat clearing sound]

My first office was in my house. It wasn't a wise move. I don't recommend this for any public profession, but it's what I had to work with at the time. I was in my doctoral program, probably 24 years old, I hadn't advertised that I could see clients, but my community knew what I was studying and had been teaching for a few years, so they'd call me up and ask, "Can I make an appointment? Can I make a referral to you?" I didn't claim to be anything I wasn't. I had a Master's in Health Promotion, and I was a sex educator in schools for even more clinical training, so I accepted select clients under these parameters and gave them my address. A half an hour before the sessions, I would wipe down the counters, clean the couches in the living room, and remove any evidence that someone -- that I -- lived there. I tried to give it the residential office building feel, like, "Look at this cool house I can use commercially! My actual house is far, far away. So glad you could make it. Would you like some water or tea?"

Clients came from all over the northwest to sit with me and talk over their concerns: a man insecure about his penis shape, a woman nervous she masturbated too much, people uncertain how to find sexual partners or how to wear their spouse's clothing. What if I cum too soon? How can I orgasm? Am I normal? Are there other people like me? I loved it, so I made some business cards that said, "Lindsey Doe, Budding Sexologist," I found some official intake forms online to use, created invoices, registered my company name, which I think then was Big Sky Valley Clinical Sexology, and I marked it all with a quotation from my professor, Dr. Janice Epp. "I am a sexologist and that means I've given my life to the scientific study of organized information about sex. Just as I wouldn't judge daisies over roses if I were a botanist, I don't judge sexual behaviors."

Three years later, officially Dr. Doe, I had become a foster parent. I was 27, my daughter was 17. It wasn't smart for me to continue seeing clients from home, our home. I knew the ramifications. A colleague introduced me to another counsellor in town who worked through sexual health issues with her clients. Her face was scarred, her voice cracked, and she walked with a limp. A client of hers had come to her home and hurt her, causing brain damage, a fractured neck, a torn cornea, a ruptured ear drum, and on and on. It wasn't because she was seeing clients in her home, and certainly me not seeing clients in my home wasn't going to guarantee my safety, but I got the message about my private practice. It needed to move. I shouldn't have been there in the first place.

I contacted a non-profit I really liked and asked to rent their conference room on an hourly basis. They invited me instead to have the whole lower floor of their building, an estimated 1200 square feet, two lobbies, three offices, a bathroom with a shower, and a classroom, two private entrances that overlooked a double deck, the river, and the back side of Mount Sentinel for a similar price. Yes, please. Just like that, I became the owner of a sexual health collaborative called Birds and Bees, LLC. I formed a group of like-minded people, known as the birds, and we did everything we wanted to: sexual finesse workshops, strip tease classes, partner yoga, full body massage, a lending library of sexual health materials, movie night, cuddle puddles, polyamory potlucks, Thai-tie parties where I would order Thai food takeout and we'd eat while learning complex bondage knots. We commissioned hand-blown Pyrex toys and opened a store. We made shirts with our logo, two lowercase b's having sex. We had parties and parties and parties, like the ménage à trois costume party where everyone dressed as famous threesomes. We went out into the community and set up a bed for people to write on the sheets what they do in the sheets as a way of celebrating coming out. And I had an office where I could still work with clients one on one. In front of my floor-to-ceiling windows with a mountain view, I'd explain to clients that I was like a guide, a sexual outfitter. They were essentially telling me that they wanted to summit a particular peak. It was my responsibility to help them fit a pack, arrange their gear, and map the course to train them how to properly prepare for and execute their climb. I was going to do it with them, but I couldn't do it for them.

I loved the space, but I did not like running a business, so I cut my overhead, let the sexual health collaborative live in the hands of many people in many different places, and I found a simple downtown office. Like any good pre-Pinterest sexologist, I acquired a bunch of frames, painted them, and filled them with colored paper. I kept the desk similarly laid out so I could easily draw things for clients and use my computer for heavy writing projects. Mostly though, clients and I would sit without barriers between us, and I would take notes on a legal pad. For this, I decided to get what I always wanted: a red couch, based on this book where photographers took a red couch around the country, asked people to sit or pose with it in some fashion, tell their stories, and have their portraits taken. It's the same premise behind this red chair. It's a symbol that each person has a story to tell, and look at all the stories from my red furniture! [music accompanies video montage].

This office is in the same building. I chose to move here when the space opened up because of the window. By the time I got here, I was no longer subtle with my art. I hung a sex swing on the door and I draped bondage rope from the coat rack. My office!

In May 2013 a videographer named Nick Jenkins came by with his camera and we started making this show, Sexplanations, where I humped the red chair, romped with a squid on the couch, acted out paraphilias, sex positions, attraction rituals, held a skunk, rubbed a clit, and wielded a light saber. Now you're seeing me here for one of the last times. Sexplanations is moving in with other educational channels like Crash Course, and SciShow, and How to Adult. We're getting a fancy new set. It will be strange to say goodbye to a place with so many memories, just like the offices before it, but my experience is it's less about where you are and more about who you're with. Stay curious!
[outro music]