Writing is the portal to my subconscious. Come inside.
Searching for meaning and discovering truth. Writing is the portal to my subconscious. Come inside.
"I moved into a plank and lowered myself to the mat. I could feel the wetness ooze out between the folds of my skin spreading in a thin layer beneath me."
~
During the winter months, yoga is the best way for me to connect with my body. In dreary, gloomy Seattle, it's the best way for me to start my day and is often the first thing I do in the morning. I connect with my body first thing by waking up the muscles that have rested and recovered through the night. Then, I usually move into other forms of movement or meditative activity.
One morning, I woke up feeling extra awake. The sun was shining bright in my room and it was deliciously warm. As I began my yoga, I immediately became too hot and started taking pieces of clothing off. One by one, my sweater was tossed aside, my shirt was hanging off the bed, and my pants were crumpled on the floor beside my mat. Before I knew it, I was completely naked staring at myself in the mirror, wondering how others viewed my tattoos? Or how much cellulite would accumulate on my legs when I get older? Or why I could never get rid of that little pooch just below my belly button and right above where my pelvic hair begins?
This could turn into a very bad morning very quickly.
But through my love of being naked and generally having a somewhat positive relationship with most of my body, I decided to take a different approach.
I've done naked yoga before and it is quite liberating when you're by yourself. I loved being naked anyhow, so it was enjoyable for me and I watch my body with a sense of gratitude seeing what it's really capable of. I felt emotion and tears coming, too, when I watched myself bend and stretch. I don't know what brought emotion, but I let be there. I didn't run away from the feelings of sadness, shame, and appreciation I felt all at once.
I have very large closet doors that are also mirrors, so looking away was nearly impossible. So I watched myself move and breathe...and move and breathe. And Chaturanga! In the next downward dog, I noticed a little slime trail as if a snail had just crossed an imaginary bridge between my thighs.
For some, we don't have to be "turned on" to become wet or erect. In fact, there are many occasions where I have felt wetness in my underwear while walking around looking at things. Emily Nagoski explain in her book, Come As You Are*,
"Nonconcordance is about the relationship between the genitals and the brain. Our genitals learn to associate certain stimuli with certain physiological responses that have nothing to do with pleasure or even interest."
Because seeing myself naked was physiologically relevant to sex, my body was reacted by producing natural lubrication. Even though, initially, I wasn't turned on at all. I became wet without feeling any desire. This is important because often times this is how a woman's sexual response cycle is: we sometimes don't feel the desire and our bodies just make a judgment call.
Although, my initial reaction was to grab a shirt or towel and wipe it clean. I paused. I got back into my downward dog and pushed my thighs together, squishing them about, and then separated them again producing an even slimier snail trail. I smiled and noticed what it felt like on my legs. It became cold quickly, and I squished my legs together again, feeling the slight chill of my hanging pussy juice, but then quickly fading into a slippery warmth.
I moved into a plank and slowly lowered myself to the mat. I could feel the wetness ooze out between the folds of my skin spreading in a thin layer beneath me. I slithered my hips gently from side to side, spreading it around. Not really knowing why I wanted that; I just let myself do it.
As I continued through a couple more salutations, I was staring at myself the entire time. I was reminded of all the women that I've known (myself included) that had suffered from some type of body shaming or negative self-talk about the way she looked. I was reminded of all the relationships I'd been through. With each breath, I remembered all the men that had objectified me and touched me inappropriately, all the compliments I'd received from my friends and partners, all the different naked bodies I'd seen throughout my life.
I was reminded that we are all beautifully diverse and that my body was a part of that beauty, too. Even my belly pooch. I smiled a big smile as I bowed my head feeling grateful and loved.
As I continued to move and breathe, I fell in love with the image in the mirror. I felt true acceptance. I felt that confident sexiness that authenticity brings.
I loved that crease on the back of my leg between my ass and thigh when I was in a lunge
My arms looking toned and softly chiseled as I held them overhead
The softness of my belly rolls as I bent over to touch my toes
I caressed my body with my finger tips gently when transitioning into each pose
My strong legs were hard and firm with muscle when I stood on one leg
My forearms became shelves for my fleshy breasts when I brought my hands to prayer
I never knew how good my ass actually looked until that moment.
~
It was amazing to see myself in this way. There was no feeling of arrogance or conceitedness. I didn't feel egotistical or ashamed. I didn't feel a desire to be different. I felt grateful! It was pure self-love and self-acceptance as I let the love wash over me. It was a powerful and serene experience filled with love, desire, passion and being nude...and it was all by myself.
When was the last time you had a passionate and loving experience with yourself? Or gave yourself a meaningful compliment?
Sometimes the smallest acts of kindness towards ourselves can replace what feels like a lifetime of self-deprecation. I concluded my yoga and continued to follow my desire and played with myself until I experienced a juicy orgasm on my yoga mat using only my fingers. I felt such completion, not only from my orgasm, but also from the physical connection between my brain and my genitals. I was nurturing a chain that had been broken down year after year living as a female in this oppressive, patriarchal culture.
When you give yourself permission to follow the curious pull of pleasure, you may find yourself smiling, searching, gently crying, relaxed, moving slower, turned on, grateful, or something different entirely. Whatever you find, it will be authentic to you and that's really all that matters.
*Nagoski Ph.D., Emily. Come As You Are: The Surprising New Science That Will Transform Your Sex Life. New York: Simon & Schuster Paperbacks, 2015. Page 48-69. Print.
"I moved into a plank and lowered myself to the mat. I could feel the wetness ooze out between the folds of my skin spreading in a thin layer beneath me."
~
During the winter months, yoga is the best way for me to connect with my body. In dreary, gloomy Seattle, it's the best way for me to start my day and is often the first thing I do in the morning. I connect with my body first thing by waking up the muscles that have rested and recovered through the night. Then, I usually move into other forms of movement or meditative activity.
One morning, I woke up feeling extra awake. The sun was shining bright in my room and it was deliciously warm. As I began my yoga, I immediately became too hot and started taking pieces of clothing off. One by one, my sweater was tossed aside, my shirt was hanging off the bed, and my pants were crumpled on the floor beside my mat. Before I knew it, I was completely naked staring at myself in the mirror, wondering how others viewed my tattoos? Or how much cellulite would accumulate on my legs when I get older? Or why I could never get rid of that little pooch just below my belly button and right above where my pelvic hair begins?
This could turn into a very bad morning very quickly.
But through my love of being naked and generally having a somewhat positive relationship with most of my body, I decided to take a different approach.
I've done naked yoga before and it is quite liberating when you're by yourself. I loved being naked anyhow, so it was enjoyable for me and I watch my body with a sense of gratitude seeing what it's really capable of. I felt emotion and tears coming, too, when I watched myself bend and stretch. I don't know what brought emotion, but I let be there. I didn't run away from the feelings of sadness, shame, and appreciation I felt all at once.
I have very large closet doors that are also mirrors, so looking away was nearly impossible. So I watched myself move and breathe...and move and breathe. And Chaturanga! In the next downward dog, I noticed a little slime trail as if a snail had just crossed an imaginary bridge between my thighs.
For some, we don't have to be "turned on" to become wet or erect. In fact, there are many occasions where I have felt wetness in my underwear while walking around looking at things. Emily Nagoski explain in her book, Come As You Are*,
"Nonconcordance is about the relationship between the genitals and the brain. Our genitals learn to associate certain stimuli with certain physiological responses that have nothing to do with pleasure or even interest."
Because seeing myself naked was physiologically relevant to sex, my body was reacted by producing natural lubrication. Even though, initially, I wasn't turned on at all. I became wet without feeling any desire. This is important because often times this is how a woman's sexual response cycle is: we sometimes don't feel the desire and our bodies just make a judgment call.
Although, my initial reaction was to grab a shirt or towel and wipe it clean. I paused. I got back into my downward dog and pushed my thighs together, squishing them about, and then separated them again producing an even slimier snail trail. I smiled and noticed what it felt like on my legs. It became cold quickly, and I squished my legs together again, feeling the slight chill of my hanging pussy juice, but then quickly fading into a slippery warmth.
I moved into a plank and slowly lowered myself to the mat. I could feel the wetness ooze out between the folds of my skin spreading in a thin layer beneath me. I slithered my hips gently from side to side, spreading it around. Not really knowing why I wanted that; I just let myself do it.
As I continued through a couple more salutations, I was staring at myself the entire time. I was reminded of all the women that I've known (myself included) that had suffered from some type of body shaming or negative self-talk about the way she looked. I was reminded of all the relationships I'd been through. With each breath, I remembered all the men that had objectified me and touched me inappropriately, all the compliments I'd received from my friends and partners, all the different naked bodies I'd seen throughout my life.
I was reminded that we are all beautifully diverse and that my body was a part of that beauty, too. Even my belly pooch. I smiled a big smile as I bowed my head feeling grateful and loved.
As I continued to move and breathe, I fell in love with the image in the mirror. I felt true acceptance. I felt that confident sexiness that authenticity brings.
I loved that crease on the back of my leg between my ass and thigh when I was in a lunge
My arms looking toned and softly chiseled as I held them overhead
The softness of my belly rolls as I bent over to touch my toes
I caressed my body with my finger tips gently when transitioning into each pose
My strong legs were hard and firm with muscle when I stood on one leg
My forearms became shelves for my fleshy breasts when I brought my hands to prayer
I never knew how good my ass actually looked until that moment.
~
It was amazing to see myself in this way. There was no feeling of arrogance or conceitedness. I didn't feel egotistical or ashamed. I didn't feel a desire to be different. I felt grateful! It was pure self-love and self-acceptance as I let the love wash over me. It was a powerful and serene experience filled with love, desire, passion and being nude...and it was all by myself.
When was the last time you had a passionate and loving experience with yourself? Or gave yourself a meaningful compliment?
Sometimes the smallest acts of kindness towards ourselves can replace what feels like a lifetime of self-deprecation. I concluded my yoga and continued to follow my desire and played with myself until I experienced a juicy orgasm on my yoga mat using only my fingers. I felt such completion, not only from my orgasm, but also from the physical connection between my brain and my genitals. I was nurturing a chain that had been broken down year after year living as a female in this oppressive, patriarchal culture.
When you give yourself permission to follow the curious pull of pleasure, you may find yourself smiling, searching, gently crying, relaxed, moving slower, turned on, grateful, or something different entirely. Whatever you find, it will be authentic to you and that's really all that matters.
*Nagoski Ph.D., Emily. Come As You Are: The Surprising New Science That Will Transform Your Sex Life. New York: Simon & Schuster Paperbacks, 2015. Page 48-69. Print.
"I moved into a plank and lowered myself to the mat. I could feel the wetness ooze out between the folds of my skin spreading in a thin layer beneath me."
~
During the winter months, yoga is the best way for me to connect with my body. In dreary, gloomy Seattle, it's the best way for me to start my day and is often the first thing I do in the morning. I connect with my body first thing by waking up the muscles that have rested and recovered through the night. Then, I usually move into other forms of movement or meditative activity.
One morning, I woke up feeling extra awake. The sun was shining bright in my room and it was deliciously warm. As I began my yoga, I immediately became too hot and started taking pieces of clothing off. One by one, my sweater was tossed aside, my shirt was hanging off the bed, and my pants were crumpled on the floor beside my mat. Before I knew it, I was completely naked staring at myself in the mirror, wondering how others viewed my tattoos? Or how much cellulite would accumulate on my legs when I get older? Or why I could never get rid of that little pooch just below my belly button and right above where my pelvic hair begins?
This could turn into a very bad morning very quickly.
But through my love of being naked and generally having a somewhat positive relationship with most of my body, I decided to take a different approach.
I've done naked yoga before and it is quite liberating when you're by yourself. I loved being naked anyhow, so it was enjoyable for me and I watch my body with a sense of gratitude seeing what it's really capable of. I felt emotion and tears coming, too, when I watched myself bend and stretch. I don't know what brought emotion, but I let be there. I didn't run away from the feelings of sadness, shame, and appreciation I felt all at once.
I have very large closet doors that are also mirrors, so looking away was nearly impossible. So I watched myself move and breathe...and move and breathe. And Chaturanga! In the next downward dog, I noticed a little slime trail as if a snail had just crossed an imaginary bridge between my thighs.
For some, we don't have to be "turned on" to become wet or erect. In fact, there are many occasions where I have felt wetness in my underwear while walking around looking at things. Emily Nagoski explain in her book, Come As You Are*,
"Nonconcordance is about the relationship between the genitals and the brain. Our genitals learn to associate certain stimuli with certain physiological responses that have nothing to do with pleasure or even interest."
Because seeing myself naked was physiologically relevant to sex, my body was reacted by producing natural lubrication. Even though, initially, I wasn't turned on at all. I became wet without feeling any desire. This is important because often times this is how a woman's sexual response cycle is: we sometimes don't feel the desire and our bodies just make a judgment call.
Although, my initial reaction was to grab a shirt or towel and wipe it clean. I paused. I got back into my downward dog and pushed my thighs together, squishing them about, and then separated them again producing an even slimier snail trail. I smiled and noticed what it felt like on my legs. It became cold quickly, and I squished my legs together again, feeling the slight chill of my hanging pussy juice, but then quickly fading into a slippery warmth.
I moved into a plank and slowly lowered myself to the mat. I could feel the wetness ooze out between the folds of my skin spreading in a thin layer beneath me. I slithered my hips gently from side to side, spreading it around. Not really knowing why I wanted that; I just let myself do it.
As I continued through a couple more salutations, I was staring at myself the entire time. I was reminded of all the women that I've known (myself included) that had suffered from some type of body shaming or negative self-talk about the way she looked. I was reminded of all the relationships I'd been through. With each breath, I remembered all the men that had objectified me and touched me inappropriately, all the compliments I'd received from my friends and partners, all the different naked bodies I'd seen throughout my life.
I was reminded that we are all beautifully diverse and that my body was a part of that beauty, too. Even my belly pooch. I smiled a big smile as I bowed my head feeling grateful and loved.
As I continued to move and breathe, I fell in love with the image in the mirror. I felt true acceptance. I felt that confident sexiness that authenticity brings.
I loved that crease on the back of my leg between my ass and thigh when I was in a lunge
My arms looking toned and softly chiseled as I held them overhead
The softness of my belly rolls as I bent over to touch my toes
I caressed my body with my finger tips gently when transitioning into each pose
My strong legs were hard and firm with muscle when I stood on one leg
My forearms became shelves for my fleshy breasts when I brought my hands to prayer
I never knew how good my ass actually looked until that moment.
~
It was amazing to see myself in this way. There was no feeling of arrogance or conceitedness. I didn't feel egotistical or ashamed. I didn't feel a desire to be different. I felt grateful! It was pure self-love and self-acceptance as I let the love wash over me. It was a powerful and serene experience filled with love, desire, passion and being nude...and it was all by myself.
When was the last time you had a passionate and loving experience with yourself? Or gave yourself a meaningful compliment?
Sometimes the smallest acts of kindness towards ourselves can replace what feels like a lifetime of self-deprecation. I concluded my yoga and continued to follow my desire and played with myself until I experienced a juicy orgasm on my yoga mat using only my fingers. I felt such completion, not only from my orgasm, but also from the physical connection between my brain and my genitals. I was nurturing a chain that had been broken down year after year living as a female in this oppressive, patriarchal culture.
When you give yourself permission to follow the curious pull of pleasure, you may find yourself smiling, searching, gently crying, relaxed, moving slower, turned on, grateful, or something different entirely. Whatever you find, it will be authentic to you and that's really all that matters.
*Nagoski Ph.D., Emily. Come As You Are: The Surprising New Science That Will Transform Your Sex Life. New York: Simon & Schuster Paperbacks, 2015. Page 48-69. Print.
"I moved into a plank and lowered myself to the mat. I could feel the wetness ooze out between the folds of my skin spreading in a thin layer beneath me."
~
During the winter months, yoga is the best way for me to connect with my body. In dreary, gloomy Seattle, it's the best way for me to start my day and is often the first thing I do in the morning. I connect with my body first thing by waking up the muscles that have rested and recovered through the night. Then, I usually move into other forms of movement or meditative activity.
One morning, I woke up feeling extra awake. The sun was shining bright in my room and it was deliciously warm. As I began my yoga, I immediately became too hot and started taking pieces of clothing off. One by one, my sweater was tossed aside, my shirt was hanging off the bed, and my pants were crumpled on the floor beside my mat. Before I knew it, I was completely naked staring at myself in the mirror, wondering how others viewed my tattoos? Or how much cellulite would accumulate on my legs when I get older? Or why I could never get rid of that little pooch just below my belly button and right above where my pelvic hair begins?
This could turn into a very bad morning very quickly.
But through my love of being naked and generally having a somewhat positive relationship with most of my body, I decided to take a different approach.
I've done naked yoga before and it is quite liberating when you're by yourself. I loved being naked anyhow, so it was enjoyable for me and I watch my body with a sense of gratitude seeing what it's really capable of. I felt emotion and tears coming, too, when I watched myself bend and stretch. I don't know what brought emotion, but I let be there. I didn't run away from the feelings of sadness, shame, and appreciation I felt all at once.
I have very large closet doors that are also mirrors, so looking away was nearly impossible. So I watched myself move and breathe...and move and breathe. And Chaturanga! In the next downward dog, I noticed a little slime trail as if a snail had just crossed an imaginary bridge between my thighs.
For some, we don't have to be "turned on" to become wet or erect. In fact, there are many occasions where I have felt wetness in my underwear while walking around looking at things. Emily Nagoski explain in her book, Come As You Are*,
"Nonconcordance is about the relationship between the genitals and the brain. Our genitals learn to associate certain stimuli with certain physiological responses that have nothing to do with pleasure or even interest."
Because seeing myself naked was physiologically relevant to sex, my body was reacted by producing natural lubrication. Even though, initially, I wasn't turned on at all. I became wet without feeling any desire. This is important because often times this is how a woman's sexual response cycle is: we sometimes don't feel the desire and our bodies just make a judgment call.
Although, my initial reaction was to grab a shirt or towel and wipe it clean. I paused. I got back into my downward dog and pushed my thighs together, squishing them about, and then separated them again producing an even slimier snail trail. I smiled and noticed what it felt like on my legs. It became cold quickly, and I squished my legs together again, feeling the slight chill of my hanging pussy juice, but then quickly fading into a slippery warmth.
I moved into a plank and slowly lowered myself to the mat. I could feel the wetness ooze out between the folds of my skin spreading in a thin layer beneath me. I slithered my hips gently from side to side, spreading it around. Not really knowing why I wanted that; I just let myself do it.
As I continued through a couple more salutations, I was staring at myself the entire time. I was reminded of all the women that I've known (myself included) that had suffered from some type of body shaming or negative self-talk about the way she looked. I was reminded of all the relationships I'd been through. With each breath, I remembered all the men that had objectified me and touched me inappropriately, all the compliments I'd received from my friends and partners, all the different naked bodies I'd seen throughout my life.
I was reminded that we are all beautifully diverse and that my body was a part of that beauty, too. Even my belly pooch. I smiled a big smile as I bowed my head feeling grateful and loved.
As I continued to move and breathe, I fell in love with the image in the mirror. I felt true acceptance. I felt that confident sexiness that authenticity brings.
I loved that crease on the back of my leg between my ass and thigh when I was in a lunge
My arms looking toned and softly chiseled as I held them overhead
The softness of my belly rolls as I bent over to touch my toes
I caressed my body with my finger tips gently when transitioning into each pose
My strong legs were hard and firm with muscle when I stood on one leg
My forearms became shelves for my fleshy breasts when I brought my hands to prayer
I never knew how good my ass actually looked until that moment.
~
It was amazing to see myself in this way. There was no feeling of arrogance or conceitedness. I didn't feel egotistical or ashamed. I didn't feel a desire to be different. I felt grateful! It was pure self-love and self-acceptance as I let the love wash over me. It was a powerful and serene experience filled with love, desire, passion and being nude...and it was all by myself.
When was the last time you had a passionate and loving experience with yourself? Or gave yourself a meaningful compliment?
Sometimes the smallest acts of kindness towards ourselves can replace what feels like a lifetime of self-deprecation. I concluded my yoga and continued to follow my desire and played with myself until I experienced a juicy orgasm on my yoga mat using only my fingers. I felt such completion, not only from my orgasm, but also from the physical connection between my brain and my genitals. I was nurturing a chain that had been broken down year after year living as a female in this oppressive, patriarchal culture.
When you give yourself permission to follow the curious pull of pleasure, you may find yourself smiling, searching, gently crying, relaxed, moving slower, turned on, grateful, or something different entirely. Whatever you find, it will be authentic to you and that's really all that matters.
*Nagoski Ph.D., Emily. Come As You Are: The Surprising New Science That Will Transform Your Sex Life. New York: Simon & Schuster Paperbacks, 2015. Page 48-69. Print.
Sitting Down with Sex Coach, Aubrey Moore
Sitting Down with Sex Coach, Aubrey Moore
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