Yesterday a friend emailed and told me my website was nominated for a Versatile Blogger Award from insidesuzyssoul.wordpress.com! I was ecstatic! Thank you Suzy and Dexter. (By the way, wink wink on the wild adventures you blog about).

I started this blog as a fun project because I had these letters from women who wrote beautiful letters to their pussy. Honestly, I didn’t know how the world was going to respond to it, so I’m thrilled people are reading it.

The Versatile Blogger Award is a way to give recognition to other bloggers you follow and whom others might not yet have discovered.

There are four simple rules for The Versatile Blogger Award:
1) Post a link to the person who gave you the award thanking them for the award.
2) Tell your readers seven random things about yourself.
3) Award 15 newly discovered blogs.
4) Send them a not letting them know you nominated them.

So, 7 (oops, random things about me:
1) I love yellow nectarines and cold, seedless watermelon (not together)
2) I have an obsessive drive to perfect documents I create
3) I’m taking care of a tabby cat, Delilah, and king charles cavalier, Baxter but I have no idea how to take care of animals
4) I love taking pictures and making movies of Delilah and Baxter (they love torturing each other, makes for great plot)
5) I have food swings the way people have mood swings (Evolution juice is da bomb!)
6) I have about 30 nieces and nephews! (lost count)
7) I have 7 blogs, each for different interests and ideas (I confess I just like to start them)
I follow rules and feel guilty when I break them (it took me 5 hours to find 10 blogs to recommend, I had 3 that weren’t new, but after the 6th hour, finally gave in and included them and I still feel bad I don’t have 15!)

Whew that was hard!

And here are my top 10 awards for websites I love. Check them out. (Sorry I don’t have 15).
1) Turned On Woman there’s only one way to be a woman.
2) Nicole Daedone author, speaker, and founder of OneTaste , redefining orgasm.
3) Go Back to Bed two sexy mom’s trying to cut through the red tape to find some satisfaction and intimacy in a crazy world.
4) Figleaf’s Real Adult Sex here’s a man/dad/husband who’s got a few things to say about sex.
5) Sarah Session fun insights from a fun girl.
6) Hug the Monkey orgasms, oxytocin and love…Oh My…
7) Dooce Heather Armstrong is what I would call a turned on woman following her desires.
Emily Nagoski sex nerd with good science, good writing and good advice.
9) coming soon…
10) Young and Raw during one of my raw food swings, I met this great couple who taught me raw was more than eating kale salads! Very grateful for them!

Enjoy!

For the past 5 years McCartney caste 400 vaginas from women all over the world ranging from ages 18-76 for an art installation. In May, that’s a week away!, his exhibit will open at the Brighton Fringe Festival from May 6th – May 31st.

I wish I will be there to see it. He mentioned on his website that he might take it on the road, so I hope it makes it here to San Francisco! If you’re in England, don’t miss this opportunity!

Also join him on FaceBook.

These are the words I would use to describe Christine when I first met her at the Turned On Women’s retreat weekend on April 15th. I remember the way she walked up to the mic and showed up for the other women and the way she called them out. She wanted to challenge her own thoughts and beliefs and she wanted to hear about other women’s thoughts and life experiences. I remember she created a space for the women to speak their truth. I remember thinking “wow, she’s bold.”

That same weekend on Sunday morning when the women were getting up to read their love letters they had written the previous night she was one that got up and read. When she first heard they were going to write a love letter to their pussy she though “holy shit, I’m supposed to write a love letter to my pussy! I can’t even use the word ‘pussy’ to begin with!”

Here is her letter.

Listen to Christine’s Letter.

This is a love letter to my pussy. It gets a lot of love, but its never gotten a love letter.

There is an exclusivity factor for loving my pussy. Only two people are on the VIP list. That’d be me… and Adam. He’s my boyfriend. My OBGYN gets access, but that’s once in a blue moon and I don’t exactly look forward to it. I don’t think my OBGYN would write a love letter to my pussy… but Adam likely would.

What I love the most about my pussy is how powerful it is, especially in six inch stilettos and a matching red bra and panty. And how creative it gets, especially after a bottle of wine. I love it for it’s endurance; last night from 2:10am-4:25am was a test to it’s ability. She’s gorgeous, especially when dressed in lace. There is no such thing as “grandma panty” in the wardrobe. If it’s that time of month, sexy underwear is still on the menu.

Sealed with a kiss, using pink lipstick. And if I were to spritz some perfume over this love letter, hmm… that’d be a hard decision to make, it’d be something sexy – a little mysterious, and would make me think of grey goose on the rocks.

My brain lies, my heart is self-sacrificing, but your
pulsating spark of wet inspiration, your throbbing
call to follow pure desire, has the thrill of
aliveness in it.

When I follow you, I am pushed to expand, to lose my
separateness, to adventure, deep in the wellspring of
creativity and connection. It is a lively dance, a
vision quest, a cauldron of sensation, when you turn
on your juice. Enigmatic, when your silky gates begin
to swell and pulse, when the soft pearl turns into a
live wire, when the stream becomes an ocean of
wetness, I am no longer a logical, separate creature;
I am a hungry beast, a playful seductress, a creatrix
who weaves dreams into reality. Limitless energy
source. Mesmerizing magnetic transformation that drops
men to their knees and nudges them to follow their
calling in life, and the call to the wild.

In you, I find the next part of myself to be birthed;
you fill my body with the promise of pleasure when I
expand beyond fear and limitation. When my mind wants
me to stay small, you get turned on by adventures,
risks, and people that have me be bigger.

I trust your impulses.
I will follow you.

Love,
Valerie
August 2, 2007

You are the pool at
the base of a canyon,
An invisible floor
opening to the Universe.

Your lips are mountain
ridges of Mother Earth,
the damp fog
gathers in your valleys
as the heat of the Sun
presses against
the moist soil,
gently spreading,
crumbling to reveal
a glimmering crystal
sparkling with every
stroke of the sun.

Your light is the
fullness of a rainbow.
You radiate
outward and within,
above and below,
within and without.

Into black space
you are a shimmering comet,
desire burning at the
tip of God’s finger.

Love,
Jeannette
San Francisco, CA

I’m sorry I didn’t really feed you earlier in my life. But I’m a late bloomer. As much as I enjoyed being with just you in my earlier years and discovering you, I hadn’t fully appreciated you until I met my first boyfriend. You are not just a part of me that feels good. You are a part of me that helps me to connect with him. Someone I love and trust.  I love letting him discover you. I love it more so than when I was discovering you for myself. Why is this?

I had associated you and our related desires with shame. With my particularly deviant desires and fantasies. My deviancies came from my fear of intimacy. Such separate fantasies that kept you and me from even thinking of coming with someone I love.  My mother scared you and I away from getting close with others. She had once dominated my life as my lack of self-awareness and lack of assertiveness allowed. But you and I went away from home to college and got educated.
At my first college party you and I dirty danced with a random boy for the first time. After the song was over I literally fled in fear as I wasn’t even drunk and we both wanted him really badly. My first Halloween at college, I had my first kiss. The guy liked me, but I didn’t like him back. Another college party, I touched a guy’s penis for the first time. I felt like I was touching a weird, slimy alien I met on Mars. He touched me and I chuckled. It didn’t feel good, it just felt funny. I liked him but he didn’t like me.

I met my current boyfriend a year and a half after my first kiss. As we spent time together things became heated. The Halloween of my third year at college we had our first kiss.  After less than a year, you and I both fully wanted him. Both really, really desired him. I was going crazy. And most importantly, by this point, I knew I needed him. I knew I loved him. He whispered “I love you” into my ear. I whispered it back. That night we both tried to have our first time with each other. I was scared and you were dry and in pain. I began to sob in frustration, pain, and embarrassment. But I loved him. We tried again the next night, and it didn’t hurt.

It was awkward for awhile. Sometimes I wanted to stop doing everything physical. It didn’t even feel that good. I didn’t like having his face right in front of mine. He could read everything I was thinking: both good and bad. He could observe every face I made. That of discomfort. That of awkwardness. That of pain. That of pleasure. Faces no one had ever seen me make before. I was so self-conscious. But luckily you kept me going back for more. It began to feel really nice. You helped me feel good and more comfortable with it all. I moaned in pleasure. But something still came between him and me. I hadn’t orgasmed with him. My deviant fantasies and my fear of intimacy kept me from sharing my full pleasure with him. I was still afraid to truly connect with him. To really let myself go.

I struggled many a night with just you trying to change my deviant fantasies when I touched you, my yoni. Finally one night I orgasmed when thinking of him. I almost told him on the phone but I was too scared. (I still get a shiver down my spine when I think of telling him.) It revealed too much of myself. But it was progress.  We both had sex on a chair. In the campus study room. I’m sure I came. I realized I was lost in my own pleasure. No thoughts of how I looked to him at all. This is the beginning of something really great.

I really love you, my yoni. I want to thank you for bringing me closer to my boyfriend. I also want to thank you for helping me conquer my fears of intimacy by kindling my desire. I would have ran away if you didn’t demand for him. You are an amazing part of me and because of you I can love my boyfriend more deeply and with more trust than anyone else I know. You are beautiful and I’m so grateful you are a part of me.

Love,
The rest of you.

How can I help you? What a strange question. You thirst for your desire. For my desire. Feeding you hydrates my body. You want more. Thank god. I want to say “OK we fed it, OK we are done. OK that is enough.” But no you want more. You want to be fed until you are done. You have desires and you want nothing but to have them fed. Give me that flavor you demand. No head to my ego, my thoughts, my reputation and respect. You demand and I listen. I give it to you and these sweet solid lines pulse through my body. Pulsing satisfaction, fulfillment and warmth.

OK, right you are good. Can I go back into myself? Can I say that is enough? No you demand to be fed whenever you are hungry. And you teach me to feed myself whenever I am hungry.

I want to speak, I have to speak. I want to yell, I yell. I want to be me, I have to be me. Nothing else will scratch that itch. No other nail will feed it. You demand that I be me. And I take the chance and say yes. Yes, what else, what is next? You hand me the ground to be as strong as powerful as my body and soul are aching to be.  I am the earth. I come from the earth. I embody the earth. Your voices yells and I speak. Feed me, love me, take up all the room you want. Be who you are. And I am.

Love,
Rachael H
San Francisco, CA
April 25, 2010

I love the way you’ve grown over the years. You’ve let me see, taste and touch your power. You let me know truth. For a long time I was afraid of your hunger and I ignored it. I tried to quite you down by pretending you weren’t there, or by mistreating you, or by just taking what I can. But I know better now. I know not to be afraid of your hunger. You’ve shown me that your hunger is my power.

I’ve learned to trust that you know best. But it still scares me to let you take full control because I don’t know what is on the other end. Most recently I’ve been feeling such intense pleasure from you that it scares me. The pleasure that emanates from you threatens to break down who I am- who I think I am, the me that has protected me from the world. You threaten my identity. I know that it is an identity that’s begging to be dissolved and broken down, and that’s why I decided long ago to open you up.

In the last few weeks I’ve closed you down and haven’t listened to you. I tasted your power and I’m afraid to fully surrender to it. I know you’re not happy with me. Please know that it’s because I’m scarred. That there are still things that I have to test out for myself. I will get there. I’m learning to trust you. To know that you have our higher needs in mind. You’ve never left me and I appreciate you being there when I’m ready to come back. Thank you for always being there.

Love,
Yia V
San Francisco, CA
April 25, 2010

And I hear your desire for freedom; for your loud voice to echo off the surrounding hills; joining the calls of the coyote. No longer whispering to the moon, but singing the song of the screech owl at night.

Start by joining, the chipper chatter of songbirds early in the morning, reminding us that it is time to wake and dance our earthly dance again, the busy katydids low moan and the butterflies that flutter in your garden, drinking in the sweet moisture of your flower. You are life, nourishing and beautiful, a force of nature whose powers have yet to be seen.

Rainbow G
New York City, NY
July 19, 2010

Eve Ensler, creator of The Vagina Monologues, shares how a discussion about menopause with her friends led to talking about all sorts of sexual acts onstage, waging a global campaign to end violence toward women and finding her own happiness. Video from TED.