Childhood.
Even as a very young child, I was aware of my sexuality. My little Yoni wanted me to stroke her and touch her. It was beautiful and pleasurable, and from my point of view, it felt very joyful and innocent. I liked to touch and nurture myself and my Yoni. I liked it when other girls and I looked at our Yoni and found it nice.

School age.
I had a close friend with whom we experienced the sexuality of this period with each other. At first we would just “look” and later we would touch and caress each other. When the time of physical change came, we took it as an adventure. We watched the hairs on each other’s Yoni and the growing breasts.

We experienced everything very intensely and felt the growing sexuality, the desire for touching and cuddling. When possible, we enjoyed the mutuality. Here we clearly felt that what we were doing was taboo.

We just didn’t understand why. Our Yoni was attuned to receiving touch and we liked it. And we were looking forward to seeing what it would be like with the boys.

Growing up.
First boy, great expectations, fears and feelings of awkwardness. A little disappointment that it wasn’t like that.
My yoni wanted more than the boys could give her. It was a time of tumultuous emotions and lustful sex. Feelings of emptiness and unfulfillment. A period of disconnection with myself and my Yoni. I was doing what was expected of me. I indulged in violent sex, manipulation by men and trying to please them. How it should be. A time of passion and suffering.

Partner life.
That’s where I lost myself the most. I felt pathetic and frustrated. My Yoni longed for more than sex and sometimes love. Maybe that’s why I started looking. In rare moments, I recognized that it could be other, divine and fulfilling. That my yoni could feel worshiped too. They were just glimpses in the dark, but that feeling led me, after about fifteen years, to begin to learn about feminine and masculine energy, about worship in love, about conscious relationship.
Childbirth.

I am grateful to my yoni through whom my four great children have passed for being able to give birth to them without suffering injury. I was wounded, in my soul, by the attitude of the staff to this intimate moment, to my body, and to Yoni in general.

Present.
I went out on the road. I’m reconnecting with myself and my yoni. I’m pampering myself and I’m happy to be pampered. I’m learning to say no where it hurts me. I see my yoni as beautiful and sensitive. I consciously seek the divine in loving. Although I am only at the beginning of this journey, I already know I don’t want to go back. I and my yoni are divine.