by Natasha | Dec 8, 2016 | Body Image, Sex and mothering, Vulnerability |
I wrote the following blog post nearly 3 months ago yet haven’t had the courage to share it until today. Wondering what was holding me back I sat with it for awhile and realized that it isn’t that I’m afraid to be seen this way – that’s my old story. It’s more that I’m afraid that in sharing my feelings about something that has been this difficult for me, I might being dismissed. I’ve heard many well intentioned women say to me “God if I had your stomach I’d be laughing” or “I don’t know why you’re so hard on yourself – I wish my stomach looked like yours.” I understand that they see theirs as much worse than mine but those words don’t make me feel better – they make me feel worse. They dismiss how deeply painful it was for me to not give birth naturally. How hard it is to have visual scars of pregnancy and yet no real birth story that gives me “credibility” amongst women. My shame is drawn in the scars on my stomach and today I’m saying fuck you to the shame. This is my mama tummy and I accept it.
Sept. 2016
We read and hear so much about self love, radical self love and the idea of loving our selves exactly as we are. I think that this kind of dialogue is important and the idea is a beautiful one, but I also think that in it’s own way it sets us up for disappointment and failure. When my teachers Betty and Carlin interviewed me for Bodysex facilitator training 2 and a half years ago, they told me that they believed the biggest gift that comes from Bodysex is self acceptance. They made a point of saying that this was more important than self love. At the time I didn’t fully understand what they meant, but I listened and held that idea in my mind as one of importance.
Body shame has always been a part of my life. As a teenager I remember feeling insecure about my small breasts and overly muscular legs. I thought that, like the women in Cosmo magazines, my breasts were supposed to touch together. When I had sex with my boyfriend I’d use my arms to push them in – hoping that he wouldn’t discover my “deformity.” The main source of my physical shame however, has been my stomach. Not only have I felt shame over how it looks from stretch marks and loose skin, but after losing one baby and giving birth to 4 by cesarean, the ever present scar has been a visible reminder of how my body failed me at what I’d wanted the most.
Late this summer I asked my friend Dana to take photos of me naked exposing my stomach. It felt like a monumental thing for me to do as I’ve always found ways to keep this area hidden. The meaning of shame is to cover and hide and a part of me has believed that if people knew what I really looked like or my full story they’d be disgusted.
As I stood having these photos taken I felt beautiful. It wasn’t that I necessarily loved my stomach the way it looked or that I loved all of the stories that brought me to this place. I may always mourn the stomach of my youth or the fact that my babies weren’t born naturally. But I can and do accept that this is how I look now and that my babies weren’t.
Fast forward to today and I’m soon to lead my 5th body sex circle. For the first time in my life I feel like I can understand what Betty and Carlin meant. And because this acceptance is true and not an attempt at some form of radical self love that isn’t really there, I no longer care if someone else doesn’t like my body, finds it unattractive or if they think I’m less of a mother for not giving birth naturally. I’ve nourished all 5 of my children with this body (plus a couple that weren’t my own) been cut open 4 times, given love and caused pain. I’ve experienced grief, loss, joys, endings and beginnings. Through all of this my body has carried me. This body and the stories drawn on it, are me. By accepting it and them, I accept me.
*photo credit 1 – Stiina
*photo credit 2 – Dana Kellet
by Natasha | Nov 15, 2016 | Body Image, Bodysex workshops, Workshops |
Last weekend’s fall Bodysex retreat began with Patti and I greeting each of the women naked as they arrived, and asking them to undress. Having been a Bodysex participant myself – before becoming a facilitator – I understood very well the look of fear and nervousness on most of their faces. Arms crossed, eyes down and some holding back tears, the women made their way to the circle and sat down.
The circle begins with the sharing of our “honest “I’s” – stories and feelings that we carry about our bodies and our sexuality that are our own and no one else’s. I think of these stories as invisible layers that hang over us. Sometimes while sharing a story I realize that it isn’t even my own – and with this understanding I can choose whether I want it to stay with me – or to let it go in the circle. Whichever way I choose, it can mean one less layer of covering. As the women took their turns to speak, I was struck at first by the bravery it takes to share and secondly by the acceptance and love that was reflected back on the faces of each and every other woman in the circle.
With this shared acceptance, the women appeared to soften – relaxing their shoulders, melting a bit into their spot in the circle and allowing their legs to open and lay comfortably. In this particular group – for whatever reason – this process seemed to happen very quickly.
With relaxed bodies and true curiosity, we moved into what I consider to be the most intimate part of the workshop – the genital show and tell. Guiding each woman through her turn to look at, show, and finally name her vulva – we marvelled at the individual beauty, diversity and difference in colours.
As the sun was setting and our first day workshop hours over, I let the women know that they were now welcome to get dressed if they wanted to. In stark contrast to only 5 hours earlier when most seemed scared to be naked – no one was in a great rush to get their clothes back on. In fact some of the women hardly got dressed again for the rest of the weekend.
As we continued to bond and share into that first night and second day, acceptance of ourselves and each other became more and more apparent. 
With this newfound acceptance, pleasure was celebrated in many ways:
Being cooked for, eating delicious meals together, being naked, orgasming, farting ( “OMG I orgasmed and a fart came out!”), belly laughing, walking the trails, energy treatments, gifts of essential oils, naked yoga, henna body art, laying under a quilt lovingly made by another sister, hair braiding, cheering our way through an old porn dvd, sharing more stories, holding space for tears when they fell, singing to each other, group massage and encouragement to “just go for three!”
We were active participants in our own pleasure with masturbation circles happening during the second day, as part of the workshop, and spontaneously initiated by women at night by the fire. Some women chose to orgasm both inside and outside of the retreat centre – in rooms alone and rooms with others. Masturbation became so normal that no one even blinked an eye at the sound down the hallway of another woman cumming.
Betty Dodson, the grandmother of masturbation, the woman who created these circles and the one who trained me, says that “Body sex is about letting go of shame and celebrating pleasure.”
Well Betty, I say: “We celebrated well.”
Thank you to my “engorgeous” sisters: Oakley, Flying squirrel, Buzz Lightyear (“to infinity and beyond!), Merridah, Vina, Nightingale, Moonstone, Chandelier, Sunset, Shakira and heart.
*** photo and henna body art credit to Studio Stiina
by Natasha | Sep 27, 2016 | Body Image, Posts, Q&A |
“It looks like a gaping wound,” “It’s ugly,” “It’s too fat,” “Somethings just not right,” “ Too dangly,” “Not like the one’s on porn,” “It’s the wrong colour,” “It looks loose,” “Smelly,” “Dirty,” “I’m too scared to look,” “I think it’s damaged from masturbation,” “Not tucked in nicely,” “Too wet,” “It’s uneven,” “I thought of cutting that part off before I showed you so you wouldn’t see it.”
These are words that I’ve heard from women in Bodysex workshops or individual Coaching sessions, and I’ve tended to think that I’m immune from these thoughts. However this week I saw my vulva “style” in the “before” pics for labia plasty surgery and I can’t stop thinking about it. If someone like me feels bothered by it, I can’t imagine how a teenage girl would feel. I don’t have what in todays society you’d call a “porn pussy.” I have longer inner lips than outer causing them to “peak” out. At any given moment my vulva looks like a flower that’s just beginning to bloom, but when I’m really turned on it’s in full bloom – open to the sun. It’s beautiful. I know it is. I really do. And yet here I am terrified to admit this. My fear makes me realize just how deeply entrenched the cultural shame is, over how we think our bodies are “supposed” to look.
It’s my hope that by sharing this slideshow we can all gain an understanding in the wide range of normal in regards to vulva styles. We birth from our vulva – it’s sacred, special, unique and has evolved to be this way over thousands of years. Our children need to know this. We all need to know this. Give your vulva a hug today.
For more information check out this fantastic video: https://www.theguardian.com/lifeandstyle/video/2016/sep/23/vagina-dispatches-part-one-what-vulvas-look-like
* Art by Betty Dodson. Special thanks to all the women who gave permission for me to share their beautiful vulva pics.
** For people reading this who have chosen to undergo labia plasty for medical, emotional or cosmetic reasons my intent is not to shame you. I realize there are times when this surgery is necessary for the physical and emotional well being of the person. It’s my intent rather to support and educate people on the wide range of normal in regards to labia so that unnecessary surgeries may be prevented.
by Natasha | Aug 10, 2016 | Awakening, Body Image, Posts, Vulnerability |
“Lastnight I had the greatest most vibrant orgasm.I can see clearly the correlation between vulnerability and orgasmic power.” – Anais Nin.
4 years ago I began a journey inwards by seeking out vulnerability. Seeing things that I held back from, feared and felt shame about, I realized how they limited the experiences I was having in my life. Making the decision to walk into the experiences, feelings and self touch that I’d been avoiding was terrifying, but each time I did it I discovered a new part of myself that had been blocked.
Through this self discovery I developed a relationship with myself that allowed me to use my sexual response and orgasms as a window into my own whole wellbeing. My orgasms – the strength of them, the way they travelled through my body or stayed in one place, the ease or difficulty in which they came — showed me where I was at physically, emotionally and spiritually.
About a year ago, while undergoing huge and difficult changes in my personal life, I began noticing a big difference in my response to pleasure and the strength of my orgasms. Unable to let go and love myself I’d been trying to will myself into orgasming – not really being present in the experience leading up to it. I could see myself doing this in a few different ways — masturbating less and masturbating with clothes on instead of fully naked and open. I’d reverted back to my teenage masturbation practice of holding my breath and clenching my left hand — being unwilling to open it and explore the curves of my breasts or hips. Feeling undeserving of the love and appreciation that I’d developed for myself these past few years, my orgasms were reflecting that.
Putting expectations on the orgasmic response I felt I should be getting, led me to try harder and longer and ended with me frustrated and feeling like a fraud for teaching things that I was obviously no good at. Seeking guidance I reached out to my mentor Betty Dodson for advice and she responded just like a mother would — loving, reassuring and at the same time blunt. Betty assured me that she herself has gone through this, that it’s a normal part of life and that there’ve been times where she actually broke up with herself — no sex at all. She went on to say that “in terms of the love affair with yourself, you might say you’re being a demanding “bitch” with your orgasm expectations.” She encouraged me to let go of expectation, keep masturbating and teaching, and that in time the connection will return.
Reassured I followed her advice while in the meantime committing myself to seeking out vulnerability and doing other things to strengthen and open myself — as I had done 4 years ago when I’d begun this journey. I started with what seemed like a crazy decision to do a 200k bike trip alone. I loved biking but I’d never gone over 30k in one stretch, rode only a mountain bike, didn’t know how to change a tire and was terrified to sleep alone by the side of the road. Walking into the fear I knew I needed to try. In the end I made it just over halfway having pushed myself past the point I thought I was capable of. I’d cried, been pelted by hail, experienced unbelievable physical pain and the fear of being alone at night. It was in my pain and my fear however, that I rediscovered the strength and inner power that had been lost along the way.
Feeling the need to discover more in myself I booked a private breath work session. Being used to holding space for others in their vulnerability I longed to let go and allow someone else to hold space for me. Even though I wanted this there’s a huge risk involved in truly showing up and actually allowing it to happen. Just as I look at my orgasms as a window into my wellbeing, I knew that the facilitator would look at my breath in the same way. After the session I asked him for feedback and he told me in a kind and gentle way that he had noticed my strong sexual energy, desire for living life and also my need for control, closed heart and tight stomach. I felt both surprised and horrified that someone else saw these things in me. Experiencing a full on vulnerability hangover I spent days reflecting on his response and the truth in it.
About a week later I decided to attend another breath work group ceremony led by the same facilitator. Laying back in the circle I focused consciously on my breath and pulling it up into my heart as I inhaled and letting it flow out of my vulva as I exhaled. What transpired over the next hour is difficult to put into words and I imagine almost unbelievable to someone outside of it. At some point, lost in focusing only on my breath, I was startled by the most intense physical pain i’ve ever experienced in my life. When I literally thought I couldn’t bear it any longer the pain was gone and was followed by what felt like the first breath of my life. The openness with which the air moved through me with that breath caused me to burst into tears. I sobbed and sobbed from the deepest parts of myself. As I lay on the floor crying in a circle of strangers, I knew without a doubt that I’d truly shown up.
Two days later laying completely naked on my bed, I set a timer for an hour with the intention of just touching myself. Having grown accustomed to the fear and disappointment of seeing my disconnect with myself through my orgasms I was nervous to try again. It seemed smart to go back to the place of learner that I’d started from 4 years ago when I’d never touched my body with my hands. So, using my breath as my guide, I explored myself with both hands focusing only on the sensations at my fingertips and the words that I spoke over and over “I love you Natasha.” My orgasm came as a complete surprise— just minutes before the end of the hour — and I could feel all of the built up orgasmic energy travel up with my breath and into my heart. I cried and cried with the comforting and old, yet familiar feeling, of being at home in myself that I’d missed so much.
Since that day my orgasms have been reflecting the openness in my heart, acceptance I have with myself(strengths and weaknesses) and this new path that I’m on. Coming full circle back to the place I began my sexual awakening from 4 years ago has been humbling and difficult for me. I feel grateful though that by looking into this window I’ve learned, as Anais Nin did, the connection between my willingness to be vulnerable and my orgasmic power.
by Natasha | Jul 19, 2016 | Body Image, Posts |
* art by Betty Dodson
I received this letter anonymously from a man who reads my blog and was saddened by the shame that many women feel about the look, smell, taste and wetness of their pussy. What a beautiful expression of appreciation for this amazing part of our anatomy. Wow is all I can say!
Hello beautiful,
We haven’t really talked as much as we should, so I fear some misunderstandings may have grown between us over time. I really want to take this opportunity to let you know what’s in my head and in my heart because I think some of it may surprise you.
Every time I look at you my heart skips a beat. I can’t get enough of that, you really take my breath away. I’ve never seen another quite like you, and every detail is a delight. I know sometimes you worry about your shape, or size, or contours. Sometimes you wonder if your lips are too big or too small, if you look better with more or less hair. Maybe you even wonder if it’s a turnoff that everything isn’t quite symmetrical. Please let me assure you that none of that is anything you should worry about, you really are absolutely perfect. The more I get to know you the more I love all the little differences that make you unique and the more beauty I see in you. I could look at you all day and never get tired of it.
I can smell you and I love it. Not from very far away (unless you’re very very excited, and what a thrill that is!), but when we’re snuggling up close your scent absolutely grips me. It’s hard to describe, there’s nothing else in the world that smells like you so trying to find a comparison is impossible. The best I can do is say that you smell like it feels to kiss for the first time, or feel a lovers hands on my body. Your smell fills my world when you’re near and turns me on like nothing else can, and it changes through the month like seasons. Sometimes it’s light and delicate and sometimes it’s heady and complex, but it’s always amazing. You may be tempted to cover your scent with perfumed soaps and washes, particularly when it’s stronger, but I love when you don’t – strawberry is nice but raw pussy rocks my socks off.
Your taste is as hard to describe as your scent, and just as unique and incomparable. Clean and pure like rain on steel, there’s nothing else like it and it’s utterly intoxicating. Different parts of you have different flavours too. Your lips and clitoris usually have a smoother, lighter taste, but when I plunge my tongue deep into you there’s almost an electric overtone. I love exploring your flavours with my tongue, finding the subtle differences and hidden deliciousness. Sometimes if you’re just out of the shower or bath I can hardly taste you at all and I miss it.
Your wetness speaks volumes to me. When I see you glistening, or feel you slick and slippery beneath my fingers, or hear the soft wet noises as you move or we move together it tells me how amazingly turned on you are. The idea that you could be “too wet” makes about as much sense to me as saying you could be “too aroused.” On days when you aren’t as wet as you’d like to be it’s a huge turn-on for me to cover my fingers in lube and gently spread it all over and around your sensitive folds.
When you feel sexy it makes me feel sexy with you. Lots of hair, no hair, a little hair in a funky design, piercings, henna, white cotton, black leather, red silk, it’s all fantastic. I’ve never seen you look anything but amazing. If there was anything at all I’d change about you it’s this: I wish you could see yourself through my eyes, touch yourself with my fingers, taste and smell you as I do; mere words don’t do you justice.
Love Always,
A man
by Natasha | May 27, 2016 | Body Image, Bodysex workshops, Nude in nature photos |
During my May Bodysex Retreat, while we were doing nude photos, I looked down between my legs to see blood coming out of me. Literally hours before I had mentioned to the other women that someday I would love to take a group photo of women who are menstruating at the same time. Ofcourse right away one of the women suggested that we take those photos of me. The idea of doing it alone scared me and I thought “fuck this is one of those times where I’m going to have to practice what I preach!” But with the encouragement of the other women and the sun on my face WE went for it. From my hair braided so lovingly by one of the women, all the way down to the dirt on my feet from the forest floor — I felt beautiful, sexy and I just happened to be bleeding. Fuck the shame that I have carried for so long over my body and my natural body functions. It has kept me hidden for too long and I refuse to keep it any more. Thank you so much to my sisters who so lovingly encouraged me to let it go.
