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June 21, 2019

I Smell my Pussy Every Day (& Kinda Love It). {Adult}

 

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I want women to smell their underwear every day.

Why?

Because I learned to love myself by getting high off my own supply.

Many women recoil at the smell of their vagina; I know, I was one of them for many years.

Too many “smells like fish” jokes around the lunch table from awkward prepubescent boys lodged themselves into my brain and made me literally turn up my nose at any smell rising up from down under.

The irony was that my vagina never smelled foul, and I actually always thought it smelled quite sweet.

In fact, I sort of enjoyed it.

And yet, embarrassment and a lack of quality information created a serious aversion, which often resulted in over-washing—which, ironically, led to yeast infections that made it actually smell a bit off.

It wasn’t until I was in my late 20s on a sort of feminist uprising that I began to stake my scented claim; I began to sniff my own panties as an act of defiance every time I found myself on the toilet.

Over time, I began to give in to the intoxicating fragrance. Extra time allotted in the bathroom for huffing my own perfume grew to be a favorite ritual and sweet way to spend time with myself.

As I began to open to myself in this way, something else began to open up as well. My sensitivity during sex began to increase, and I actually started to enjoy sex more (for context, I really wasn’t enjoying sex much at all).

But how could taking a sniff your own whiff be cause for extragenital sensitivity?

Well, the answer may not be quite what you would think. In fact, it was thinking that was the answer—or, rather, the problem.

Anxiety. Anxiety was the problem.

Most times during sex, I spent so much time in my head worrying about how I looked, smelled, or if I was doing a good enough job, that it didn’t leave much room to actually be present in—let alone enjoy—the experience.

As I began to fall in love with the way my yoni smelled, I began to relax and actually open to more pleasure and enjoyment.

And even more so when I could smell her.

That anxiety eventually turned into authentic enjoyment when I smelled my own juices. Which, as you might imagine, made sex more pleasurable!

The quick reason behind how this works in the brain is that neurons that fire together wire together. When two things occur within the same context, they form an association with one another in our brains. When we eat watermelon outside on summer days, the smell of fresh-cut grass makes us crave watermelon. Our brains are flexible, and while this association process mostly occurs below the level of our noticing, we can actually use it to our advantage to, for example, associate the smell of our own vaginas with enjoyment, and thus make sex more pleasurable.

So, if I wanted to up the ante on this, I could actually pleasure myself (masturbate) while consciously smelling my vagina.

The same association holds true for creating other aspects of our experience as well.

The more we consciously associate ourselves (parts of our body, our personality, our work) with pleasure, the more pleasure we will begin to feel natural in our bodies and in our lives.

And because, in general, sex happens in the head, training our brains “on how to pleasure” helps create more enjoyable sexual experiences.

And, believe it or not, this works regardless of what our partners may (or may not) be doing. Which is empowering because it places us back in the driver’s seat of our own joy and fulfillment, versus leaving it up to someone else.

So, if you want to have better sex, and you don’t yet love the smell of your own vagina, close your eyes, take a deep breath in, and let yourself fall in love with you, all over again.

Pro Tip #1: Every time you go pee, take the opportunity to turn it into your palace of self-love and self-pleasure. Go ahead and take big whiffs of your fantastical flowery fragrance!

Pro Tip #2: Get yourself a daily vagina reminder to help you connect with your body in a loving way, each and every day.

~

author: Arin Amsler

Image: Kristina Flour/Unsplash

Image: @elephantjournal on Instagram

Editor: Kelsey Michal

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My Little Yoni Jun 24, 2019 6:57pm

Dear Janet,

I want to start by thanking you for your realness, your honesty and your humor.

Your passion is clear, and I honor your courage and the time you took to respond to this article.

In fact, this is the point of writing these things at all. To spark meaningful discourse, meet in apparent discomfort of different perspectives and find our humanity again in the journey to understand and to connect.

It gives me hope that you would make the effort.

My intention with writing this article was to encourage women to connect with their bodies in a more playful and perhaps surprising manner, to think differently about their bodies and perhaps even to question the very nature of their self relationship.

I hoped to do so by sharing a humorous, vulnerable and surprising personal story, that just maybe someone else could relate to.

I understand and can appreciate why you felt that it was too much information. This part of our body has traditionally been considered private. I agree with this privacy to a large extent, and unfortunately, many women’s topics have been so private they are not talked about at all. Which leads to misinformation, fear, shame, disease or worse.

I appreciate this feedback greatly, and will continue to reflect on, as well refine my voice and message, which I think is what you hoped to offer in your reflection.

To which I say back to you, “right on sister!” we can all become better more responsible leaders.

I look forward to your response, and to the growth and learning our interaction will surely yield, I hope for both of us.

With love and a humble bow in your direction.

Playfully yours,
Arin

Beverly Gibson Jun 22, 2019 1:36pm

I love this! Yes! We need to be more in touch with ourselves, all of us!

Janet Anderson Jun 22, 2019 11:20am

Whitman Mayo, as Mr. Rhythm, in the movie D.C. Cab “Don’t let your dick run your life.”

“Come talk to me in two months, when your pussy’s eating your leg.” Tanya, Margot Robbie, in ‘Whiskey Tango Foxtrot.’

The Fruitcake Lady. Marie Rudisill. On The Tonight Show.

Finding this solidly placed in Elephant Journal’s editor picks for three solid days was like receiving Dick pictures from some random guy. It was unwelcome. And uninvited.

I have to admit that I didn’t read it. And won’t. Thanks for labeling it ‘Adult.’ But you already got my attention, in a negative way, using a very successful headline ‘hook.’ You should be generating lots of ‘hits.’

All I can think of first is “OMG, I hope she washes her hands.”

That stuff? It’s private for a reason, Baby Girl.
Who decided that you needed to write an article about dipping your fingers in your twat?

Was that, like, your idea? Or was it Waylon Lewis’s? “Oooh, shame. That sounds like something good to write about.”

The picture you posted? Now? When I see anybody going “Shhhh!” As in “Shhhh…ame.” I’m going to be thinking about your sticky pussy fingers, and wondering if you washed your hands recently.

Things we don’t talk about. That much. In public. Your cunt, your twat, your pussy, your cooter. Your v-jay-jay.

There’s a reason for that. It’s your business, dear. Sister, if you want to talk? A friend girl or your loving partner is best. Sometimes your daughter, but please be wise, gentle and kind. Not just honest. It’s a lot to deal with, during puberty.

Maybe you’ll be the next Dr. Ruth, hun. Or Oprah. And you’ll help millions awaken from fear and shame. But chances are? You’re just going to regret the decision to write about how your pussy smells. It’s fine if you’re practicing to be Dr. Ruth, or on SNL, or for an article for Cosmo. Maybe you want to be the next celebrity on ‘The View?’ That’s all okay. But, Baby? Is that really who you wanna be? Remembered for your pussy articles? If yes? Go for it.

A few years ago? As the so-called ‘revolution’ on the internet began to awaken and rally women, to vote, to stand up for women’s rights again, to help women regain respect for themselves and responsibility for their bodies, to fight for gender equality, and social parity, for compassion and restoration of loving and respectful ways of treating people of all genders, we collectively went through a dark period of exploring our sexuality. ‘Fifty Shades of Grey’ and a reprise of the sexual revolution.

Women online were writing blogs, and encouraging ‘ten thousand words.’ They pushed for fantasy, pornography, photos of the Divine Feminine, a celebration of womanhood, a destruction of patriarchy. They sewed vagina pillows. And solicited vagina photos by the thousands.

I know. I was there. I got sucked in. And it wasn’t pretty. But? As the Buddhists love to say, and TED fellow Heather Lanier says? ‘Good or Bad, who can say?’

As Jimmy Buffet said, (And this is a variant for the ladies) “We all have ‘em. We all want ‘em. What do we do with them?” He was talking about relationships, of course. Not vaginas.

And what all those vagina monologues led to? Before they led to the #metoo movement? Was exploitation. Women, willingly rushing into the internet looking for meaningful relationships, in all the wrong places, in all the wrong ways, fumbling in the dark, literally and figuratively with people who neither loved nor respected them.

We did that already. In the sixties. In the eighties. In the new millennium. This visits us every generation, like the plague. An awkward, Bridget Jones phase for each generation of humanity.

And? It doesn’t work. It just doesn’t work. It eventually engenders shame, disappointment and a significant loss of self-respect and self-esteem.

I love that you love your pussy. That you love your body. No matter how big or small or fat or young or old or stinky it is. That’s beautiful.

It was made that way for a reason. It tells you. And your partner, or potential partner, (sometimes even other people, and nosy animals, yikes!) plenty of information about your health, your fertility, your menstrual cycle, even your age. It operates with seemingly magical scientific properties and provides astounding and evolutionary cues like pheromones. It’s really cool. Lots of the animals on the planet have them. And they operate in similar ways.

They’ve been the Holy Grail, for as long as mankind can remember, and before.

Vaginas. We all have them. Well, most women have them. If you have an X and X in your chromosomal makeup kit, 23 and me? You probably have a pussy.

You might even have one if you have an X and a Y. I’m not asking, checking or judging what you keep in your panties or your boxers.

Vaginas. They’re wild, they’re wacky, they’re wonderful. They’re miraculous. They even make babies. It’s incredible.

I understand that you want to ‘keep the conversation going.’ Especially in light of our current cultural iteration. Abortion. Rape. Basic human rights. Freedom of choice. The Divine endowment of Free Will. Karma and Consequences. ‘Pride and Prejudice.’

You go, Girl.

But just a thought? In my experience? And I’m old, now. Your vagina is yours. It’s going to change, during every phase of your life. One day, it might be a blue-haired, dried up, withered old prune. Or not. What you do with and to it? And with whom? Is up to you.

Personally? Since we’re not intimate friends? I just don’t want to know. TMI.

And tell Waylon? The shirt he’s wearing in the embedded video? Makes him look like a sad, tired, Parisienne mime. Retire the shirt, Dude. There are plenty more at the thrift shop.

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Arin Amsler

My Little Yoni is tackling taboos and bringing the heat, with info on topics like periods, consent, sexuality, pleasure, confidence, puberty, hormones, self-worth, hygiene, and self-care.