WHY DO YOU TALK ABOUT “HER”?
WHY DO YOU TALK ABOUT ”HER”? IS THAT A WAY OF DISTANCING yourself from ”her”, he asks. And I just:
– No, no, no, it’s the other way around.
And then I reflect. It’s really possible to see the talking about ”her” as distancing, because that could mean that I don’t see her as a natural part of my body. And she is. She really is. So why do I say her, or give her a mysterious name like ”my wild flower”? Why isn’t this holy entrance, this magic room, called me? My arm, my leg, my… moist centerpiece?
I am thankful for the question, making it possible for me to reflect even more, and look into me, explaining why I am saying ”her”.
To me, putting a soft hand over the sacred garden is an acknowledgement. Talking about ”her” is a way of saying that she is important, that she has a life of her own, that she has feelings, that she has her own movements, that she erupts or shakes from pleasure all of her own. Talking about her is a way of loving her, of telling her ”you are a queen”, you are mentionable, you are often in my thoughts, I care for you. And together we enjoy.
When I was little this body part didn’t even have a name. It was un-nameable. It was more like ”down there”. The energy around it was husch-husch, secrecy, shame and some sort of disgust. This part wasn’t recognized as her. It wasn’t seen. It was nothing to look at, nothing to touch, nothing to talk about.
It took years before I saw her. I guess I was 12 when I took a mirror and looked. I was looking with the question: ”Is something wrong? Does it look normal”? Even if I did look, I didn’t get an answer. I had nothing to compare with. What was considered as normal?
Slowly shame grew. And all – except peeing – was forbidden around it.
I don’t really know when we became friends and lovers. Of course I had long since learned that touching it could give me pleasure. But still I didn’t see her. I didn’t acknowledge her.
I’ve made love in darkness for decades. I’ve met men who wanted to enter me, but not look at her. It was like she wasn’t really born, as if men just saw her as a cavity.
I guess I was in my forties when my curiosity had risen high enough to start to really connect, and explore. And from that grew a relation between us. And she became a vital part of me, a sort of independent part of me. She was seen. She was loved. She was respected.
So to me talking about ”her”, is like talking to my twin, to one I bow in front of, whom I worship.
Sitting at the Stockholm tantra festival, talking about our yonis, talking about pleasure, responding to questions from the audience, made her happy. Sitting there I felt how her lips became swollen, filled with blood, revitalized, and longing for touch. It was like we were sitting there together as a team, she telling me, with her body language, that she really loved the topic.
Yes, and I love her. And I hope you do too. The most important is that you who have a yoni, can appreciate her, celebrate her. And of course it is also nice if she makes friends, also with at leaast one other person, who also can love her, respect her, see her, play with her, exchange energy with her.
Yes, I love her. She is a vital part of me.
What is your relation to her?