Dickmann. Maybe it was my name that led to my fateful decision to become a sex therapist. Or as my own role model Dr. Sigmund Freud might have put it, it was part of a lifelong quest to secure my own dick and man, not necessarily in that order.  

The wonderful world of sex was introduced to me at a young age. As an infant, my parents quieted me down by placing a vibrator in my crib instead of a pacifier in my mouth. The buzzing helped calm me down. 

Growing up, while others were playing with their Barbie and Ken dolls, I was wondering why they had no genitalia…or any openings in their plastic bodies at all, for that matter. Those two could’ve used some of my therapy for sure…”

As any Jewish American Princess growing up on Long Island, the only thing I inherited from my parents were their neuroses. My first real kiss was having a tongue sandwich shoved in my mouth… at the kosher deli, leading to a lifelong devotion to vegetarianism.

But sex always fascinated me, and as a teenager I realized what I wanted to devote my life to...helping others overcome their hang-ups, their repressed desires, their inability, for whatever reason, to have satisfactory sex lives by communicating their true feelings to one another.

With the help of my trusty (and very gay… not that there’s anything wrong with that) assistant Kenny – an out-of- work actor with a vivid imagination, and a libido to match -- I welcome all comers. Sex therapy is a fascinating career that allows me not just to live up to my name, but experience it on an everyday basis. My slogan is “Let This Dickmann Work on Your Dick, Man.” And if I get a cheap thrill in the process, all the more tantalizing for me!