Try repeating over and over, “I accept this moment.”
“I accept the tensing of my muscles.”
“I accept that I don’t feel pleasure right now.”
“I accept this fantasy.”
Start there. See what untangles
I posit that sex is sacred because Life is sacred. We exist because of sex, and the act of sex couldn't be more natural. If Life is sacred, so is sex. Almost every person has a story of contacting their natural sexuality as a child—and having it shamed or chastised out of them, to live on in dark corners of the mind and body. When we're shamed about sex when we're young, it causes a lifelong undercurrent of self-questioning. We worry that we're sinners, or that there's something wrong with us. In our unconscious, sex gets connected with these false and disparaging thoughts.
It wasn’t until I did work around my childhood wounding and patterning that I began having aha moments. I realized I was the common denominator of all these relationships, and if they were all going the same way, it pointed to a certain someone fucking up: me.
Self-pleasure doesn't have to look like mainstream porn. It's one option, but it's not the only option. The masturbation we see in mainstream porn follows the biological male arousal pattern. Meaning: many people with penises get fully aroused (full engorgement) in 30 seconds - 2 minutes. Meanwhile, the bio-female arousal pattern looks different. It takes a full 30-45 minutes for full genital engorgement, lubrication, and therefore arousal.
Anything you’re trying to change in your life: a body part, a reaction, a state of being, an emotion, a disease—try a new tact, a different angle. Baby it. Ask it what it needs from you, and if it’s in your power, provide that. It might need rest or love. It might simply need to be heard. What it doesn’t need is shame, judgment, or fear.
Breast massage gives you a relationship with your breasts, one that you cultivate from the inside out. This is your time to connect with your heart, with your nipples, and with any sensations or numbness there. This is your time to connect with the energy in your breasts, to give them acceptance and love, and to really make peace with them. Massaging your breasts leads to acceptance and compassion—and fuller, perkier breasts are the cherry on top.
Above all, a healthy sexuality isn’t boring—it can take you to greater heights of pleasure than you've ever experienced. When your sexuality is aligned in your own Truth, it doesn't come with feeling bad after sex or self-pleasure. It feels pure, unfettered and clean, but not in the way we're used to using those words. You can still be having anal sex, or exploring spanking, and feel pure, unfettered and clean. It's about full consent from you and a partner, and being your full Self in sex.
So, here’s what Truth actually is: truth is a felt-sense in our own bodies. Truth is inner authority. For me, truth doesn’t come from an external source, even if that source went to medical school. Truth comes from my own experience. Outsourcing truth to a doctor, to a lover, to a parent, to a friend—that’s where we, historically, as women, lose our power, and fade into the background again, not trusting ourselves, our intuition, or our bodies.
Vulva mapping, or vaginal mapping, is an opportunity to have your genitals touched with total compassion, and with no agenda. It's a space where you can explore the history of your pelvis (from gynecological exams, to sex, to birth), and to share the stories that are being held there. It's a space of incredible slowness, rich with opportunity to negotiate consent, and practice your own boundaries. It's a space where your yoni can be honored, normalized, and freed from old stories, pain, and shame.
"A wild, sensual creature?" you might be asking yourself doubtfully. "Sure, maybe I was a wild, sensual creature in a past life, or for a blink of an eye that one summer during college. But these days, I have no idea where that person is. Is she lost forever?"
I'm here to tell you: No. She is not lost. You can always touch back in with that wild, soft, playful part of you, the one who knows the deep pleasure of standing in warm rain, or feeling an amazing fabric against her skin. You can even grow your capacity to be in touch with her, at all times.
In fact, the first time I used my yoni egg, I found myself wondering if I’d been slipped MDMA.I felt tingling from my head to my toes. Each little sensation bloomed and escalated. Even my vision became different: hazy, diffused. I felt the edges of my body dissolve, and I was part of a watercolor painting. Even though I didn’t have a traditional climax (that 3-10 second “genital sneeze” we all strive for), that didn’t matter. There was no need for that. I was elevated, infused with bliss. I felt like I was making love with an invisible god. I felt like a goddess.