I remember the butterflies dancing in my stomach as our mentor offered each of us a handheld mirror.
I knew what was coming. What I didn’t realize was how profound the experience would be.
It was late 2019. The sunlight radiated through the walls of our yoga Shala (studio) in our luxurious Bali resort. We came to sit here several times a day during our Yoni Massage Practitioner Training Retreat. The setting alone felt enchanting and allowed for us to drop deeply into our eight-day intensive training.
“Everyone! Find a quiet, safe space in the room, take your mirror and hold it up to your yoni (vulva), we are going to yoni gaze!”
It’s one of those moments where everyone held their breath a little too long and avoided eye contact.
We meandered around the room surrounded by the ceremonial incense that filled the space, until each of us found a nook to sit down and be with our bodies. One by one, we removed our clothing from the waist down. I don’t remember if I undressed quickly or if I savored each moment, but I do remember it feeling liberating and terrifying simultaneously. What on earth was I stepping into?
I’ve seen my yoni many times before, but honestly, in the past, I’d be focused on where she lacks or isn’t good enough. Where she rebels from the confines of societal norms. Do I have the right amount of pubic hair? Are my labia too long? Is my scar tissue from three vaginal births noticeable? Should it look neater, more compact, more…porn star?
This was the first time someone had given me permission, the first time I had given myself permission, to simply just be with her. Without judgment, without shame, or fear, but instead with radical acceptance!
It felt like connecting with an old friend in a whole new dimension of intimacy.
Within moments, I felt waves of emotion rising to be met. Emotions to be felt, acknowledged, released, and healed. Lifetimes of shame, guilt, and unworthiness embedded into the velvet folds of my vulva as I gazed upon her. A new layer revealed itself with every breath, and I surrendered and welcomed in more love, appreciation, and acceptance.
Time appeared to stand still for those moments, and I had forgotten that anyone else in the room existed.
It was just me and her, reunited, reclaimed.
I was shocked to discover how disconnected and how abusive I was to the most incredible and sacred fragments of my own anatomy. How society and conditioning had led me to believe every fold was anything less than perfect…beautiful…cosmic! I made a commitment, that moving forward, I would only use words of compassion and kindness to describe myself. I am after all a miracle. So worthy and deserving of everything that is good in this life. I had never believed anything to be truer.
This was the first time I truly, madly, deeply fell in love with my yoni.
I felt so incredibly connected, turned on, and tapped into my intuition. It was a remembering of the innocence and unrivalled beauty of our erotic truth. A reclamation of all that it means to be a woman!
Since this moment, I have chosen to continue surrendering to the radical acceptance of my yoni and my truth. It is a powerful phenomenon to watch a woman fall in love and accept every cell of her being as she learns to embody and wield that truth.
I strongly recommend that if you have not yet sat in a space of deep love and connection as you observe your yoni, make the time. Remember how to love you.
It can be just 10 or 15 minutes, with the intention of reconnecting to her and your heart space.
I guarantee if you are ready to listen, she will talk.