Hey Luvs,

I had recorded this episode for you last week but have had some difficulty uploading it ahead of the eclipse.

In there is a sort of mix of breath|bodywork, story telling and skills sharing.

Ultimately support for pleasure seeking

…

All in divine time x

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I have rebranded more times than I can keep count.

There was the ‘living a conventional life’ era,

With a man.

Playing wife.

He was nine years older.

Lived a few doors down, felt cute.

I was 17 when we got together.

Moved in together; together for a decade - I paid into our house for 5 years.

Left with nothing to show for it, I didn’t know what my rights were, and things ended amicably,

I made things easy.

I’ve since learnt that meant I was making things accommodating for him,

Since, well, I got to keep the car,

Which I’m pretty sure I paid for.

…

The season of ‘van life’ in Edie, the VW LT35 camper I got to call home.

Drove across Europe on my own, mostly.

Had a man I’d known not too well pay me a visit, picked him up from Ljubljana airport,

He ended up staying for a month,

I pushed my feelings aside to provide around the clock ‘good vibes’,

An attempt to make him feel alright.

Must have learnt early on to appease men first,

Best to keep the peace….

…. An attempt to hold on to a sense of safety?

We travelled along the coast of the Adriatic Sea from Slovenia to Greece.

And I’m a daughter of a priest, well a Rev. but no one really knows what one is.

Dad was a big deal in christian circles; was on the God channel at some point.

Aged 17 I took my first flight to Rwanda, to photograph the projects Dad’s charity supported,

People effected by the genocide - children, sex workers, elderly, disabled.

I grew up with him trying to fix some big world problems, like poverty.

I believed I could do something big as well.

Earlier, a friend mentioned some jobs they’ve been working on, for companies such as tiktok, coco cola and amazon - each one I want nothing to do with, yet a thought still entered my head.

“I’m behind.”

…

I have done some remarkable things but I had to catch myself.

Raudi krossin Island – the Icelandic Red Cross. I worked at the night shelter for women with drug and alcohol issues.

The Prince’s Trust – as in the literal King has a youth charity that I used to run back when he was still a Prince.

And I have worked with many grassroot organisation doing impactful things, changing lives in different places around the world.

And, I know none of these things define who I am.

I once drove an ice cream truck in Iceland…..

Honestly.🙄

I have people I would consider family in Uganda.

I have lived some lives LUV.

…

I feel like Big V/universe/God-dess/spirit told me ‘don’t deep it.’

But… what would it be like it for soul/energy/divinity to have incarnated to experience all that is available to you in your life right now.

Encompassing all of the high,

and the low.

Feelsy.

Along my re(dis)covery journey I have reached points where I have wanted to share what I have learnt,

& I know how obnoxious that can sound.

There once was a time where I couldn’t feel pleasure though,

Like at all.

It took a lot before I could start to feel well, to heal.

My body was wrecked.

^{TO know Pleasure is to be God, the universe and everything in it.}

^{TO be alive is to know that we are all one.}

^{TO believe otherwise is to be dead inside.}

In the spring on 2021 I had a nervous breakdown.

Life had made space for me to land, and my past caught up with me.

I was bed bound, at my rock bottom.

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This is my re(dis)covery journey.

Re(dis)covering pleasure.

Now I’ve managed to be able to reach the depth of such pleasures,

Pleasure that feels like…

... bathing in liquid rose gold…

...under waterfalls…

...in rivers..…

& skies painted with splashes of orange and pink.

Through alchemy,

Magic,

Practice.

I have been able to reclaim a sense of presence in my body following sexual assault.

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Pleasure is something that can only be experienced through being present.

PLEASURE ≠ SEX.

SEX ≠ PENETRATION.

Seeing a sunset, a sunrise, tasting delicious food, good company, belly laughs, spending time alone, walks in nature, watching stars in the sky, a long hug, a refreshing beverage, a decent nights rest.

It’s simple,

1-Sense what is pleasurable for you,

2-Notice where you sense it in your body,

3-Then do more of it.

This is how we build capacity in our nervous systems, our soma, bodies, to be able to experience more pleasure.

And it is my absolute delight to support people to cultivate more of this - sense of PLEASURE - in our everyday lives.

Heather Loweena x

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P.s. I’m trying something different with Pleasure Ministry, have you watched the first episode yet? Let me know what lands, what doesn’t and what you want to know more of.

Find it here.

And let me know in the comments - how is your relationship with pleasure?

x

Thanks for being here beaut xx

I’ve been struggling with exploring taking up space.

My soul chose this timeline to exist, to experience what I am currently experiencing.

We can’t just be here to survive - there’s so much more to life!

I don’t know about you but I am here to have a lovely time.

And it is here that I find myself preaching about PLEASURE.

Not quite what the schools career advisor had in mind for me,

I should be working a 9-5 but haven’t for the best part of 10 years.

I haven’t yet managed to become a wife,

I blew up that old life.

The one with the house, the partner - playing the role of ‘his wife’ in the movie of ‘his life’.

A moment for the past please.

Compost, I light a match and set fire to my past to make way for more.

Somethings I’ve been reflecting on recently.

• How much is me not wanting to say the thing - and how much is me not wanting to tell them.

• Does this feel safe enough to share parts of me with - coz not everyone gets a VIP ticket to those parts.

• They’re not into it, me, enough, to get to know such depths, deep parts of me.

• Do all lovers feel what I do?

• How do lovers go to friends again?

• And how do you arrive at anything beyond ‘... so what are we doing?’

• Different boundaries, expectation.

• And I get to choose what I am into.

These crumby situations aren’t turning me on!

So, I sext a guy I used to be attached to.

We weren’t anything either.

He said we were friends.

But we lived together in my van for a month, driving to Greece, from Slovenia.

That wasn’t love?

What is love?

It’s not supposed to hurt, I know that much.

In it’s purest form,

it’s liquid rose gold.

Feels like bathing under waterfalls,

sunset orange,

and pink skies above.

Oooossshh….

Thats.Pleasure.

It can only be experienced in the present moment,

What was that about getting back in touch with that old guy again?

I must have been craving a sense of safety during an unsettling season.

Someone who I knew quite well, on some level.

He doesn’t know all of my stuff, some of it.

It’s more about what’s getting activated at the moment.

I wonder if, or when, we’ll ever meet again?

Safety feels like….?

Like I can see you as a plus one to a friend’s wedding.

Or I could be yours.

Help you feel calm.

Hold you when you need to be held,

and vice versa.

Like friends but with more frequent pockets to explore pleasure, sensuality and touch.

‘So what do you say - wanna stick it in me? X’

Recovery deserves more support.

Your paid subscription helps me continue to grow Vulva Luv Club—a space for healing, pleasure and connection. Thank you. ♡

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It’s like I want to ask this guy, the mate I’ve been sleeping with, how is this for him?

A check-in would be good, touch base. I want to practice what I preach, show up to intimacy differently and check we’re still both on the same page...

Or,

Just,

Let it be?

Perhaps it’s more about what would actually feel good for me.

Instead of shape shifting for someone else.

I can communicate what I want.

Why am I being so accommodating?

…

Which led to

…

What’s your relationship like with suffering?

We ride around the city.

I get annoyed being dependant on him for directions is irritating.

I guess I’m used to doing everything on my own,

Hyperindependent.

It’s hard to adjust to let someone else take a lead role, especially a man.

My thoughts are rushing to conclude that in fact this perhaps is not what we want.

It’s a mismatch.

And that’s alright.

You don’t have capacity for more.

And I don’t think I want more.

With you.

In fact I know I don’t.

I don’t know how much is me being sensitive and how much is a trigger - the cues, the body awareness.

I think I’m open to finding out what it’s like to be more than ‘just friends who sleep together’.

I want to be dated.

I want to be touched.

I want consciousness.

Senses tickled.

Tingles.

Connection.

Understanding.

Awareness.

Language.

Passion.

Pleasure.

Capacity.

Patience.

Repair.

I want something that supports us to open up to our whole fullness.

As for this?

I’ve been swept up into a ‘something’ that’s ‘nothing’ for too long.

Let’s enjoy being ‘free to be me’ after a year of celibacy.

I put out.

Then wondered if it’s what I actually wanted or just a pattern I picked up.

So why am I allowing things to continue with this person.

If I don’t want more.

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Does it mean ‘break up’ or just let things fade out?

It’s a vibe or it’s not, right?

And I’m sensing an opportunity to call back my energy and choose, conciously, my next move.

Is this just how it is get to know someone?

Or especially - after trauma?

Perhaps it’s just the process of getting to know oneself, more and more.

It takes time.

It’s worth finding out what it is that lights you up.

Take your time.

Breathe.

Day dream.

Sex that moves you to tears.

The sort of sex that allows you to transmute past hurt by bringing in past trauma whilst feeling safe and aroused ✨

Reclaim moments of intimacy lost to disassociation.

MAGIC!

It’s about breathing into these areas.

Fuck me like a virgin,

Not the sort of virgin that you’re sacrificing,

More, take your time with me, be tender, delicate, gentle.

Let me feel like I can talk to you, that I am safe with you - that’s a huge factor.

So what did I do….?

Basically I am of an age now - I am at my most fertile perhaps.

On a biological level I am hardwired to reproduce.

So when did that become undesirable?

Surely it’s the utmost arousing, magical power - life force energy is pumping through me.

What else could I be channeling it into?

And how much of it have I wasted on boys who call themselves men?

I’m starting to realise that I don’t know many guys who want kids. That is reflective of the men that I surround myself with. And what a time to be alive - we have so much more freedom to choose what we want for ourselves.

Another bleed,

Another new moon,

Another cycle.

Another love interest.

I can hardly keep up with myself.

The last time I was having such a fling I was in Greece,

Volunteering with asylum seekers and refugees.

My peers, service users.

Lines blurred.

I blurred lines with a housemates before,

Colleagues as well.

I quickly learnt not to shit where I eat.

So there was this guy moving out of one of the warehouses where I live.

We only crossed paths a few times.

From the off we spoke deeply by moonlight, over tea.

It was hot? Or was it the mystery, the dance of uncertainty that happens getting to know someone new.

He’s a short king.

And I’m also a slut in recovery,

Decentering-men once again.

And just out of a year of celibacy.

Is there anything more rampant than a summer in the city?

I’m on heat…

I can’t even bring myself to spill the tea – it’s all got a bit ridiculous really.

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What better time is there than now, to refresh myself with my ‘How to Guide to Feeling Alright’.

Remember we’re just aiming for ‘alright’.

BREATH AWARENESS - check-in regulation

BODY AWARENESS – I feel..., I sense…
GRATITUDE – I am grateful for…

Yea if I’m honest with myself I can see some unresolved pieces staring me in the face. I’m keeping my options soooooooooooooo open,

I got good at living in the make believe, that ultimately means abandoning me. Myself,

My needs.

That’s how I used to live and it made me soooooooooooooo UNWELL.

This is me demonstrating the tools that have, and have not, worked for me on my re(dis)covery journey. Heaven knows I used to feel that my existence was an inconvenience, for far too long.

Ok enough of that – lets talk LUV x

Just yesterday I was sharing long breathy hugs with the neighbour.

This guy I generally feel safe with.

Except,

Do I?

I would really like to explore none sexual pleasure with someone,

Like the ultimate edging.

Dry humping,

Not even.

Breath.

&.

Touch.

Sometimes I get sex and connection mixed up.

I need a time out.

All this thought of dick and fanny,

I need to take a good look at myself.

Have a long…

Hard…

Think.

…

What on earth is going on with you?

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Let me catch you up.

Hey if you’re new here I’m Heather Loweena,

Founder of Vulva Luv Club

#representationmatters

Re(dis)covering pleasure after trauma

#bodyworker

#pleasureactivism

Growing up, my peers called me a slut,

I was beaten up for having sex in the bathroom at a house party.

15 years passed before I realised what had happened to me was actually sexual assault.

The word rape felt too big and heavy, that’s something that happens to other people, like, that’s a big deal.

I brushed my stuff under the carpet, I minimised it.

Well I didn’t actually know what had happened to me; I didn’t have the language, dialogue or understanding to know, let alone to know that it wasn’t ok.

My brain did a great job at protecting me from what took place, blocked this obtuse thing out and I got on with my life.

Now I see it as a symptom of living under patriarchy.

Being born female meant I had a role to perform.

Appease men.

I was 14 and had been drinking straight vodka with a group of friends people I hadn’t known that long.

What followed has been a lifetime of… shenanigans?

What should I call it… experiences?

Let’s just say what followed totally makes sense - as you would expect really.

Things played out and I went on living my life.

It then took me a while to not only acknowledge what had happened to me.

To then process it.

And the things that played out as a result of navigating the world from this unaware-I-was-hurting place.

Let’s take a moment for that.

It’s been a lot.

Having spent many years moving and living abroad,

I’ve lived a lot of lives.

And now I have arrived in a new place, moved to a new city - the big smoke.

London.

And I am getting tangled up with men once again, in ways that feel uncomfortable,

But familiar 🙄.

I thought I was showing up differently now - all of this work/time/energy/resources spent on metabolising the past.

Turns out I’m just the same slut as I was at school.

Only I’m now closer to 40.

Recently I’ve been seeing/sleeping with a guy friend.

I don’t actually feel like I have many, nah, I actually don’t have any guy friends.

I cut men out from my diet in 2021 in an attempt to get well,

I’m in contact with my Dad - does that count?

There are some guys that are in my life but most the guys I got close to, sex took place and changed things.

I’m not one of those anti-men feminist,

No, I very much choose to believe ‘not all men’.

The data would say otherwise though - but I choose to believe that good men exist.

I’m not a man.

That doesn’t mean it’s ok for me to send nudes without getting consent.

It doesn’t mean it’s ok for me to explore romantic/sexual relationships with people when I am in a position of power.

It doesn’t mean anything different being a different gender – except for the fact that I don’t have a penis, so society doesn’t see me as a threat?

And that’s not even the defining feature of what it means to be a man!

I am OBSESSED with the topic of relationships.

Intimacy.

Sex.

Or is it my trauma that keeps me here?

Life is mirroring somethings back to me and it feels like it’s time to go back there.

To sit with myself in my dark dank pit,

And find out how do I actually feel about all of it now before navigating something more with anyone.

How do I feel about myself?

My recent entanglements?

And what is it that I actually want for my life?

I would hazard a guess that this current situation I find myself straddling isn’t it.

So the neighbour…

You must have seen the consent tea video

When I was celibate, all the noise that exists for me being around men usually, mostly, went away. Where I would usually feel the need to dance the dance of uncertainty when the slightest window of possibility presented itself, that they might potentially want…

To stick it in me?!

All of that noise went because I wasn’t entertaining it.

Now I am opening myself up to explore connection again and I find myself back in some familiar muck.

Messy stuff.

Is it always just going to be this way for me?

So how am I feeling about myself?

For that I need to sense into the body - whats wanting my attention.

I can fantasise about wanting to make a life with my osteopath.

It’s make believe, a fantasy. My therapist had to say explicitly that it’s a no go as it would be crossing a professional boundary, on his part, so don’t go there. For the record my insecurity is outweighed by my desire for validation. It’s not that I think I turn heads, more that I’m just explaining my thought process.

I appreciate that he hasn’t actually made a move and things have remained professional (all though we did once hug which naturally led me to think we would then get married), but that’s a low bar really - respect!

There’s the friend that I have enjoyed exploring partnered intimacy with.

I have concluded that although I can project something onto him that allows me to see him as the father of my children.

The facts are he doesn’t want children,

I don’t know if I do either.

But irrelevant if I do or don’t,

It’s still important for me to surround myself with people who value taking care of themselves, which he doesn’t.

So why am I letting him have access to my treasure?

This friend asked me what I want in a relationship.

He also asked me what qualities I’d like in a partner.

I had to keep saying I’m not sure if I want a partner.

I guess part of why I can’t simply bring myself to say I might want to have children,

There’s something in there about wanting to protect myself,

Incase it doesn’t happen.

Like I’m preventing myself from grieving.

I’m still grieving the baby I didn’t have,

Because I was too ashamed that I didn’t know who the father was,

I was sleeping with a few people at the time,

A real life Mamma Mia situation - eat your heart out Meryl Streep.

The neighbour has highlighted for me… it’s about honouring the time it takes to regulate with another persons nervous system. Noticing the sparkles and acknowledging them, or not, and having a dialogue with the other person involved, to navigate it together.

That feels like growth.

It’s all part of the process of getting to know someone.

There was the cafe owner, I was eyeing up one of the waiters before we started to chat. That chat led to me giving him my number. Then I was open to just seeing what it will be. Which led to us meeting, hanging out with essentially a stranger, in a park, at night - it was like being back in high school.

I want to invite the friend around now,

For blowbacks and BJs.

Except that isn’t what I want.

I don’t want more dick.

For me it’s never really been about the D.

It is something about connection.

To feel close to someone.

Not just anyone though.

x

with trauma.
Living.

Pleasure seeking

Eating a frozen pizza in the courtyard outside the warehouse,

Listening to Francesca Oddie’s astrology podcast.

Percolating.

Recent conversation with a lover have got me thinking to myself,

About the conversation happening in my head, knowing full well that they are unlikely to actually happen. Something I know all too well.

I spent a long time living in limerence,

Fantasty,

Make believe.

By myself.

Cradles head, body stretches

A stranger walks behind me, climbs the ladder lent up against the wall to access the neighbours rooftop,

as people around here so often do…

Taking shortcuts.

I cradle my head, align my hips

Whispers echo from my body.

I feel safe here.

I’m particular about who I let into my eco-system.

This ache in my shoulder is too much to handle. Heaven knows I didn’t invest all of my time, energy, resources, money - on getting better,

Only to remain in chronic pain, surely not.

I learnt to give parts voices,

names,

colours,

textures,

shape.

To simply just notice what comes up.

Anyway, I was thinking about that version of me where things played out differently...

This lover has been made aware of my PTSD,

Well, maybe it’s just implied at this point?

After a year of celibacy,

My self worship (touch) practice increased.

At this year’s annual check-in with my therapist we landed on a word for this year...

I N T E G R A T I O N

Oooooosshhhh!!

And oh boy are off to a bumpy start getting back into bed with men 😑.

This is living with PTSD

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It’s one thing to be signed off work,

Another to put yourself through some form of rehab called Ayurveda

I’ve got the tools from many different lineages.

And I did get better,

and I kept barking on about how transformational life was.

I’ve spent a long time just me, you and I.

Maybe it’s this wooden bench I’m sitting on eating a frozen pizza outside, watching the moon rise as the full moon approaches tonight.

Perhaps it’s the hours spent riding bikes exploring, being a city gal.

Or it’s the whispers,

The noise from my body,

Reminding me to come back to myself.

If I’ve learnt anything it’s ~ how to heal hurt hear myself.

I’ve turned to so many different practices because I never really felt like I had a place, or people,

I could turn to.

All that hurt.

… If I’ve learnt anything ~ it’s how to pleasure myself.

This is Pleasure Ministry - a journal from Heather Loweena, founder of Vulva Luv Club.

Right so what was I saying? Yea I’ve been seeing this guy - classic.

A slut in recovery ❤️‍🩹

#reframingtraumaintopleasure

#pleasureministry

#ptsdrecovery

#vulvaluvclub

It’s quite the side quest de-centering men, celibacy and then returning to dating again.

Perhaps I’ve watched too much Celebs Go Dating recently - for research purposes, ofc.

I’m pretty sure some might call what I’m doing ‘dating’.

I might just be sleeping with friends,

Or exploring solo-poly,

ENM.

Oh how it feels to be presenting as someone who knows what all of the different acronyms on Feeld mean.

Yet I have no real life experience/practice of what I used to teach about on this subject.

For over 13 years I worked in sexual health services and taught sex-ed.

So here we are, living in a warehouse in London,

When I could have been somewhere in SE Asia, doing yoga teacher training.

I’m ‘finding myself’ in London,

working on Oxford Street,

With this city is the backdrop to my integration season,

And what a summer it’s already been - the birds and bees living their sexiest lives.

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No matter what,

In all of the countries I’ve found myself in,

Involved in international aid projects,

I have always managed to find myself entangled in some sort of situationship BTS, that could make award winning plots for TV or films.

So am I here for the bit..?

And if so I best Carrie Bradshaw this thing and make some money doing it right?

Being me and getting paid for it oooossshh 💖

Writing is the catharsis. The antidote to all of it.

If I’ve learnt anything it’s channeling past hurts into creative life force energy - alchemy is what it’s ALL about !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Pivoting towards…..

….Pleasure.

Go do pleasure-able things,

have a stretch,

Inhale,

Exhale

Smile.

Live well - look after yourself.

Even after a year of celibacy.

I am still an addict.

I never tried AA or NA.

I almost went to SLAA (sex and love addicts anonymous) when the inner noise got too much.

I’ve worked in the field of addiction: I know lots of people who believe that addiction is an illness.

My understanding, it’s more as a coping strategy.

Because of unprocessed trauma.

I’ve processed a lot thanks to EMDR.

I thought I was malfunctioning,

My brain was misfiring.

But it was actually doing exactly what it should, trying to keep me alive and I’ve had to literally rewire it.

I’m from a place that colonised the world, that wiped out indigenous peoples and their practices that once supported us to live in harmony - not hot guys.

But also perhaps my soul came down on this earth to have this very experience.

How incredible it is that I get to experience this life, to feel so very deeply. I was once so numb I was unable to feel anything at all. I had to relearn how to hold the simplest of lifes joys, pleasure, in my body.

I get to be me 🙋‍♀️

I am free in many, many ways.

And I am a survivor of sexual violence. I was groomed by the patriarchy #GBTP.

Pleasure Ministry - is for survivors and people who want more pleasure in their everyday lives (FYI pleasure doesn’t = sex. Sex doesn’t = penetration).

So when I sense whispers what I mean is I sense the noise,

Not in my mind but in my body.

I get curious about where it’s coming from.

There’s a thread of heaviness woven in to the tapestry of life,

That thread is sex.

It doesn’t take away, if anything it adds - there are great depths I have explored on the topic of sex.

Many things have helped me to really attune into the fine details, to support my nervous system, my capacity to feel good. And part of that is the depth I can reach which allows me to experience ultimate pleasure.

And as someone who was unable to experience pleasure at all for a while - it’s kind of a big deal.

Although I have de-centred men,

And I identify as pansexual,

Returning to the bedroom has once again involved men.

I’m not sure if it’s the wound, the being groomed by the patriarchy and made to believe that it’s what God wants for me?

Perhaps what my therapist was talking about with regards to integration was this?

What a process.

That conversation I probably won’t have goes something like this…

‘I feel if we are not looking to build something together then I’m not doing the emotional labour of letting a man into my eco system.

Even if you do think that knowing more about me might help you to better understand me.

I don’t want my trauma to define me.

However, you have also fucked me up and out of this solar system, out to Gods and Goddesses in heaven.

So on some level I have let you in me pretty deep.

Then I wonder how great the sex would be if we went another level deeeeeeeper by communicating at this level, building trust through vulnerability.

But maybe let’s just do anal?

Sometimes I think I could totally see you as the father of my kids.

You don’t want kids.

And I don’t know if I do either.

But I am pretty fertile, in my prime and maybe I need to get more serious about what I want for my life?’

I’m checking in with myself and I’m sensing that I’ve returned to being sexually active. The last month in particular. Is it just living in London? I really thought putting everything I’ve learnt into practice would be some what smoother. I’ve put myself into a state that’s giving flash back.

Perhaps that’s the issue, I’m leaning on old patterns and ignoring the parts of me that crave for more.

I’ve started having sex again after over a year of conscious celibacy. And I’m having great fun being in my body.

But I’ve still not chosen the right suitor.

It’s hard because I feel safe enough with this guy, it’s like a no brainer that I explore integration with him. And we do have fun but there have been a few times where it’s gone wrong, I’ve felt glimmers of my old dysregulated ways.

Then I remind myself I don’t actually have the emotional charge for this.

It shouldn’t be this hard, challenging sure, umcomfortable from time to time.

Is it the process of letting someone in,

Exposure therapy style. Or is it actually fine but I want more for me and my life.

But practice,

Growing pains,

Not hot.

But also coming home to yourself - HOT!

So what am I noticing?

Upper back. Tears.

I guess I’m not quite ready for the thing.

Just being a thing.

A bit on the side.

Need to chew the fat - or better yet fill my time with something higher vibe.

It is exhausting all of this.

Which is sort of the reason I did cut out men, entirely, from my life.

Alas the noise did shrink.

Shock.

Who’d have thought?

If you remove the source.

Not all men,

Ofcourse,

But all of them,

The majority of them,

Were dickheads of sorts.

A moment for those who have lost their lives at the hands of men,

To survivors of sexual violence.

A moment please for recovering pleasure,

Pleasure after trauma

Sexual assault

Living with PTSD 🎉

x

p.s. I’ve never had anyone make me squirt like this guy OH MY GUSHNESS I am soaked.

Recently she mentioned looking back 8 years.

8 years ago was 2019.

In 2019 I found myself in Greece, having driven across Europe to volunteer with grassroots organisations with asylum seekers and refugees.

By day I ran community projects feeding and supporting 250-300 men.

And by night…

I unravelled.

To cope with the stress of realities my peers and people around me faced I would run.

Smoked.

Got high.

Drank in excess.

And I disappeared into men and intensity.

The astrology was right.

Threads from that time have been resurfacing for me.

I’ve never really spoken about it, but what followed transformed my life.

In 2019 I had an abortion.

And afterwards I spent years undertaking different forms of therapy, bodywork and exploring a variety of lineages, to understand the deeper roots beneath my attraction to chaos, intensity, risk and self-abandonment.

Not all at once.

Just slowly, tenderly, learning how to stay with myself instead of constantly reaching outside of myself.

It’s been the greatest adventure of my life getting to really know myself and bring shadows parts loving into the light.

And here I find myself again, noticing old patterns re-emerging. Different faces perhaps, but familiar feelings.

What stands out to me most is not shame about the abortion itself.

It’s the shame I still carry around the versions of me that existed around that time.

The person who was struggling.

The person who kept reaching outside themself.

The person who didn’t yet know how to stay.

One of the most important things I’ve explored in therapy is the difference between privacy and secrecy.

How we don’t need to expose ourselves completely in order to be free.

We get to choose who, and how far, we let people in.

Boundaries.

But I also know silence can become its own kind of hiding.

Part of why I’ve stepped away from social media recently is because I’ve been craving a different kind of container for these stories.

A slower one.

A softer one.

A place to honour the parts of me that carried me through my wildest years with tenderness instead of shame.

Maybe this is the beginning of that.

Thanks for being here.

And thank you for you x

Not gone — just changing.

This space is becoming somewhere slower, softer, and more honest.
A place to write about what it means to come back to the body — especially after it’s been shaped by trauma, expectation, or disconnection.

I write about:
pleasure as a practice
touch and somatics
nervous system healing
undoing shame, gently

This isn’t about fixing yourself.
It’s about learning how to listen again.

If you’re here, I imagine something in you is already turning in that direction.

No need to rush it.

Over the next few weeks, I’ll be sharing writing that feels closer to the bone — less polished, more real.
Things you can sit with, not just scroll past.

If you want to go deeper, I offer pleasure-based somatic work on a pay-what-you-feel basis.
You can reach me at heatherloweena@gmail.com or through @heatherloweena and @vulvaluvclub.

And if you’re arriving fresh — welcome.
Take what feels good, leave the rest.

Heather Loweena x

Hey my LUV, solstice blessings and a happy new year.

Wow. What a journey it’s been.

This past month,

This past year,

This past life.

Wow.

And now here we find ourselves,

On a threshold.

A path reveals itself,

Moving forwards – changing the direction life takes us.

Pivot,

With just one step.

Taking just one step,

At a time.

Deep breath in,

And exhale,

Release.

I heard Lily Allen mention EMDR therapy on a podcast the other day,

It reminded me of the time my life transformed when I was the recipient of said therapy, on the NHS the other year.

…

A friend asked me the other day if I was actually trained in therapy.

And that reminded me that I actually did study EMDR,

And somatics.

And breathwork.

BODYWORK

I’m sat on these tools, that I often make use of, and it seems like such a waste not to be shouting about them more.

Tools and practices that utterly transformed my LIFE! My awareness and understanding grew, supporting me to not only regulate myself, but to also expand my capacity to be with discomfort. Fast forward to now, helping other people to experience more pleasure in this wild life.

I self identify as a bodyworker. And yet, between you and me, I’m struggling to recall the last time I spent an evening with myself. To just feel.

[It’s funny how things can change; in the week that followed I had multiple extended moments spent with my being - #cyclesyncing.]

It’s been a while It had been a short while between bleeds.

Part of my challenge is that I have no fixed abode.

I’ve been living out of a bag, on and off, off of the generosity of people who care about me… for far too long now.

People I feel close to.

People who have believed in me and allowed me space to be.

And yet it can feel completely impossible to be wholly my SELF, whilst in the company of others. Or rather, I struggle to feel able to feel free to be me, simply, in my most organic state, homeostasis, when I’m in close proximity to others.

And it’s not just a fear of being perceived, that is ofc a factor, I am a millennial after all. It’s more a sensitivity issue, that my energy can be compromised by the littlest of things that can set off my hypervigilance mode, totally restructuring me on a cellular level.

It’s a real art to curate a sense of inner calm and stillness in spite of the inner noise, which only gets nosier as external circumstances cloud my sense of stability. Whether it’s wondering where I’ll lay my head each night, or on a more macro level wondering if the worlds going to be alright (I do what I can to protect myself from consuming news, not to be ignorant but because I feel pretty strongly about protecting my peace since my nervous breakdown).

Is any of this making sense?

The challenge with freedom,

Is that it comes at a cost.

In many ways I have more freedom than most.

I don’t own my own home, or a car, or a boat.

I’m white, and privileged in many ways.

My outgoings are low, I don’t have any dependents.

I don’t have someone to answer to, no partner to keep in the loop.

And no one needs to be informing me of their movements.

I am a pretty free spirit.

& yet I crave nothing more than finding a place to land.

In this season of life, it seems to be a theme that I am dependent on the people around me who are letting me lean – I’m learning so much from this season of life.

From those ones who are showing me how to accept help.

Not because I’m asking for something specific; I’ve been hyper-independent for a while now.

It’s the generosity of the people around me, as I allow myself to not have everything figured out, that is helping me to seek roots. It’s where I begin to notice the gaps in me, space for light to shine in, glowing, as if the light of their love is lighting me up. These days I’m more interested in relinquishing the fake sense of control and just letting things go, flow state, going with it. Not to be passive, I’m choosing which path to take but allow myself to be led by a sense of ease - and less by fear.

I am through with perceiving things as if I have any control. ‘Coz I don’t.

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Where I once tried to perform or push away uncomfortable feelings and thoughts, now I am able to show up with curiosity for myself. I notice how things feel different when I’m around people or alone.

As someone who spent so much time on my own growing up, then became someone who found it so easy to move to the beat of someone else’s drum, now it seems impossible that I could ever allow myself to lose sight of me, myself and I again.

That’s ‘coz I know my worth now...

I can’t believe how much things changed when I started to understand that the nervous system, our bodies, act as a barometer that measure our inner weather – there is so much data being collected every moment.

Why would we not want the tools that help us to get a feel for whats going on?

Tools that can help to predict when we are more or less likely to have energy?

Practices that allow us to attune to whats going on under the surface, not to judge or critique, but to gain a greater sense of awareness and understanding,

Leading to being in a better relationship with self and others.

To then go in search of more of the things that support us feeling good.

To then experience more pleasure.

And more

and more

and more pleasure.

Until pleasure becomes our constant state of being….?

All we need to do is tune in, to get to know what it is we actually want and need, to feel good, iron out those points of constriction, restriction. Using the breath as a guide,

Breathing into places of knowing,

Ancient wisdom,

And sitting with whats alive inside.

It’s good sh*t.

Like r e a l l y good.

All those years I had spent chasing a high, desperately seeking to escape myself, searching for some other place to arrive if only to improve my mood, to make myself feel marginally better. All of that energy spent chasing validation. Or the years of substance abuse, normalised by culture, an innate need to get off our face speaks volumes about how far removed we are from ourselves.

It’s that time of year [was] that one might be haunted by ghosts of our pasts, regrets, poor judgement and such likes.

Carving out time to be with myself because I know that this time has the potential to be a magical time,

A time for digestion.

Metabolising.

Isn’t it beautiful, the process of transmuting past hurts into new loves?

Composting.

This is how I learnt to let go,

When I was drowning in pain, I found love was the only way out.

I tired myself out by kicking and screaming,

Resisting.

Multiple failed attempts to block out the inner aches, with booze, and drugs and sex.

Hit it all on the head at the same time - out of necessity; something needed to change and I was ready for something drastic.

If only I would have had access to the tools I have now,

Tools that could have helped me to move through big T traumas back then.

Instead of thinking that one more health kick might do the trick.

Then just bingeing everything again, only causing more harm/chaos/trauma.

I was going in blind.

I couldn’t hold on any longer; my seams burst, my edges frayed.

I began to unravel.

It was time.

Breathe…

[I’ve decided to split this into two parts - the second part contains practical tools you can use, stay tuned]

For too long, I have defined myself by the ending of my hetero-normative, conventional life.

It’s now been 10 years - that’s the same amount of time I was playing his wife!

And the same amount of time I’ve been riding solo, in relationship with my SELF. So I think it’s about time to reintroduce myself to me.

Hey, I’m Heather Loweena, I’m cool AF! And for the last decade I have been on a journey, exploring, getting to know myself inside and out.

I want to share with the world, all of the amazing stuff, about my: wonderful, loving, compassionate, understanding, strong, ambitious and brave SELF - and what it all means to ME! What can I say, true love is worth celebrating.

This is the sort of LUV that makes you want to shout about it.

I am absolutely 100% into this for the long game, I’m head over heels with me.

This relationship has allowed me to grow into who I was longing to be - my SELF!

The me that existed before I learnt to shrink and contort myself to appease others.

I had no idea the LUV that would bloom through choosing me, getting to know my SELF in such a way - and it wasn’t what I set out to do when I left the man I’d built a life with. I decided to leave because the noise in my head became too much.

I tried different ways to block it out and it would show up in the form of skin rashes and health issues; it took my body shutting down to finally get my attention. For too long I was in constant discomfort, and I thought there was no other way for me to be - I just put up with it, found ways to cope.

For the past few years I’ve studied to understand myself better; the LUV I once poured into fuckboys of the past, I’m pouring that energy back into me. Alchemy, past pains are now transformed into abundant flowing liquid rose gold rivers, waterfalls, oceans and streams.

D E L i C i o U S n e s s

The practices I use are what I want to share with you here.

These tools I use to create pockets of pleasure to weave into my everyday life. I believe that it is possible, no, vital, to experience pleasure on the regs. And I say this as someone who lived for a period unable to experience pleasure atall.

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Back in 2020, it was the pandemic in Iceland. I’d been on the waiting list for therapy with the NHS - CBT for free. By that point I had already been seeing a private therapist for a few months. I couldn’t wait. I had finally reached my limit, experiencing panic attacks in my sleep, panic attacks brought on from passing a men in the street - it was impacting my day to day life. I’d put it off for too long, the seams were bursting.

So I did something about it.

I had tried everything else, putting it off, numbing, distracting myself - and it hadn’t worked.

I was ready to give up, admit defeat. It was time to face my demons head on.

I don’t remember it so well, things were hazy back then. I’m sure after speaking with the doctor I was told to self refer to the local mental health services - which only felt like I barrier to accessing support, but I did it.

Honestly it was the best thing I ever did - I wish I’d done it sooner because JEE WHIZZ! I was living life from a wounded place, it impacted the decisions I made - meaning I just ended up causing myself more harm.

So much unnecessary heart ache and inflammation.

Now I do everything to protect my heart.

Our hearts are vessel for LUV - Holy and not to be fucked with hun.

I know what this path results in, it’s time for me to try something different.

I’ve never taken medication for my mental health issues, I’m not apposed to the idea; I was given prescriptions for them on multiple occasions. Every time I would come to the conclusion that there might be some things I could try by myself and then assess if I felt better. Phrases like ‘eat right and move more’ filled the pages of diaries for many years, pages filled with self loathing, desperate for change. I asked myself if there was anything else within my control, what else could I do? Had I really tried hard enough? And when I did get control, restrictive eating and exercise addiction disguised as health-kicking, something else would wobble knock me off balance, leading me right back to square one, the sticky spot I so desperately tried to escape from, at any cost.

You can continue to doing what you do and hope this time will be different.

Or

You can make a different choice.

You can choose different.

I chose enough. I chose not to go on with the constant noise in my head brought on by men - it was time to get help. I decided to believe that I was worth paying £40 for a private therapist because I didn’t think I could wait the six months for the free stuff provided by the NHS.

I chose to believe them when they said I wasn’t taken someone else’s space, that it sounded like I was going through a lot and I might benefit from some support from them.

I received 6 weeks of CBT for free and I chose to stick at it when it got uncomfortable. I got to understand that it was all part of the process.

I then chose to go back to my therapist because 6 weeks wasn’t enough.

I chose to study in the field of trauma recovery. I got good at it. Now I have the privilege to sit with others, support them to bathe in their own filth and build capacity to be with their discomfort. To explore ways to experience more pleasure in our everyday lives. And I continue to turn to my therapist as and when, if something comes up.

You are worth the investment! The return rate on this is excellent 💖

I needed the help.

And I got the help.

And I needed more help.

So I met an ayurvedic doctor who taught me to eat rice and lentils, and it saved my life.

I got better.

Then I got better at helping myself.

I was able to recognise what and how my body was feeling.

And this became a language I could tune into and receive messages, whispers, stories stored in my body - I know, I genuinely thought I was going mad too! Turns out delulu isn’t a sickness!

And I chased up the original offer of EMDR on the NHS, I spoke to the local team who discussed my case at length and put their neck out to get me in given my circumstances.

It changed my life, finally put those noises to bed.

Digested.

Metabolised.

Integrated.

Then I saw a facebook ad to study somatics with The Somatic School.

The next year I graduated as a body-oriented coach.

I went on to study somatic EMDR with The Embody Lab.

This year I qualified as a Breathwork facilitator.

A qualified Pancha Karma technician, the process of detoxifying, purifying the body.

A lomi lomi practitioner.

This is me, a bodyworker of sorts.

I practice. I teach. I preach,

Allowing divinity to move through me.

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Making LUV with the universe is HOT AF!

Pink light on, curating a playlist for a workshop I’ve been dreaming up… I will share more with you soon, I’ve been letting the final details emerge and form 💖.

The themes arriving for me recently have been around craving roots.

Looking for somewhere to land since leaving Iceland almost three months ago, unsure what’s next on the horizon - I’ve been invited to consider returning home, to the home within.

Momentum is building from all this time sitting in solitude and stillness, this seemingly stagnant pond that is the town I grew up in. It has been a process metabolising the parts of me I’d previously left back in Iceland, that I’d collected. I gave myself time for the dust to settle before the next chapter could begin.

The more pockets of pleasure I invite in, my edges soften.

Taking moments to pause, to drink in pause. To taste delight. Sense beauty. Feel.

Expansion.

Sipping.

Drink me in.

….

Hey, I’m Heather Loweena, Pleasure Minister. And I’m happy to have you here.

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This time last year I was popping over to Uganda to catch up with some friends, and ended up taking a group of young people to a music festival with me at the source of the Nile to talk about periods.

It’s random, and yet it’s perhaps just an average random November in my world - I’ve done some things in my time.

I’ve been enjoying getting back into writing, so if you like reading I’ll leave the link here for you to peruse at your leisure.

If this is a bit of you then make sure you are signed up to the newsletter here.

Because the newsletter is over due I wanted to share with you in a bit more detail here. For a while now I feel I’ve been stifling myself trying to keep the separate parts of me separate. With all of this integration, I am now being faced with embodying all of me - and that goes for my passion projects and personal work. This is all free so why not join me for the adventure. And I promise I won’t be filling up your inbox, things here move flow state, seasonal, as and when divinity moves through me rather than to the beat of capitalism.

This space is evolving as more of me chooses to show up and I hope to move with with you so let me know how things are landing for you.

If nothing else, this practice, an opportunity to invite in ritual,

Letting LUV move through me,

And spreading LUV with you,

So there you go, I’m so happy to have you here x

LUV note themes for next time we speak …

• Groomed by the Patriarchy - Spilling the tea only here on substack, tales from my re(dis)covery journey.

• What I’ve learnt from a year of celibacy?

• New workshop incoming - FANTASY. Combining decades of experience working in the field of relationships and sex, AND breathwork AND somatic tools AND techniques to experience more PLEASURE… can’t wait for this work!

Speak soon,

All my LUV,

Heather Loweena x

Thank you for the opportunity to explore what feels right for me, in my life here & now x

Last night I found myself in a field, stepping out for an evening full of entertainment. From fun fair rides, to Sonique; I am still left questioning why the tradition of bonfire night has lasted all these years, given its origins in burning a catholic, who attempted to blow up the houses of parliament. What side are we on? Something doesn’t quite sit right with me but it easy to brush under the carpet, right? If you can shine some light on the details, please let me know!

Never the less, we had a lovely night.

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The waning moon was shining bright on a clear starry sky backdrop. The air starting to crisp up as the clock reached towards midnight. I walked back to my parents house from the train station, in part wondering how safe it is for me to be moving alone at night - a contrast to the years spent living relatively care free in Iceland, one of the safest countries in the world!

I relished in the silence; snuggled into my scarf, enjoying the magic of the night. Perhaps made extra special by the sense of being totally alone, something I’ve become familiar with and grown to love. Something I don’t get to experience as much these days. Headphones on, nobody in sight just me and the universe.

…

Recently I’ve been floating somewhere between,

‘Isn’t this a lovely place to be this time of year’

&

‘What do I need to do to get out of here?’

Integration.

I always knew this was going to be a transitional season; I moved back at the end of the summer without a clear plan of whats next, nothing lined up. I kept saying ‘I think I’m going to let myself land and do that bit for a change’.

I can see myself balancing on a stepping stone, body wobbling trying to keep one foot in the air.

I am keen to move fowards, towards whatever is next.

But that’s just it - I’m not sure what that is.

And leaving, well it felt time, there was a momentum building as the seasons changed.

Landing meant taking the time to metabolise before rushing off into the next thing, a new practice I developed after years spent jumping from one large, significant life changing chapter, and bursting straight into another with no time catch my breath.

Cocooning.

I have shared a nervous system supportive playlist with you, find it below.

If I’ve learnt anything in the last few years of my re(dis)covery journey, it’s that when all feels out of reach, it’s time to lean in and hope for the best.

Astrologically speaking, Scorpio season tends to be a time for turning inwards. Shadow work. Apparently, for all my Libra rising siblings out there, the current transits are tickling areas for us around self worth and material possessions.

So, when I’m contemplating what my time, energy and experience is worth… it makes sense that I feel like throwing in the towel with getting my passion projects off the ground, and instead go get myself a seasonal job with Royal Mail.

Let’s just say, it’s been an uncomfortable adjustment, which makes sense.

Growing pains

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The more I can sit with myself with empathy and compassion - the more I feel into the feels - the more I start telling myself that ‘the world needs more of ME’.

And the world needs more of YOU too!

Not in the patriarchal sense - the world doesn’t need to extract from us, that’s an unnecessary and harmful practice.

The world benefits when the organisms that live within its eco-system are doing their thing.

We’re not meant to worry about work, dating and paying bills!

But they are factors of the world we inherited.

You are a living, breathing organism and there is a wonderland that lives with in.

PRACTICE SELF WORSHIP

Place your hand on your heart, feel it beating.

You are alive.

And the fact that any of us even exist is a miracle.

According to the internet, the probability of you existing is 1 in 10^2,685,000.

For those of you unfamiliar with scientific notation, that second number is a 10 followed by almost 2.7 million zeros.

Here is what 1,000 zeros looks like:

0000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000

Imagine that number of zeros… 2,685 times over.

…

If YOU hadn’t learnt to shrink, or shape shift, what would the world be like with more of YOU in it?

YOU are your magic.

Shine your light like the Care Bears; stomachs beaming up towards the sky!

What a treat to be alive, what a miracle you are.

Whilst living under cis-white-hetero-monogamus-patriarchal capitalism, it seems there are systems and structures in place designed to restrict and limit us.

Werk Werk Werk.

I’ve lost count of the amount of times that I’ve told myself I’d be better off if only I could find a man to keep me - like a pet? In exchange for bed and board? Or I should actually give sex work a proper go, find me a sugar daddy. Maybe then I could live out my dream of being a sexy Robin Hood, redistributing some of mans wealth they seem to have accumulated, to more favourable projects, like rebuilding community.

Sometimes I even wonder what life might be like now if I’d stayed living that conventional life, the one where I was playing his wife… Instead of ending things amicably, having paid into his house for five years and leaving… with nothing to show for it (meanwhile our house would have now doubled in value… good for him).

Oh boy.

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This is all fuel for ME. It doesn’t cost me anything to day dream; why wouldn’t I dare to dream and believe that I can sustain myself doing the type of work that I love?

And that means not being reliant on a man.

When I allow myself to lean in to what it is I do want, noticing how that feels and where in the body I can sense it; this is nervous system work.

Like a compass, pivoting towards pleasure, trying on different scenarios in my minds eye. This might start with daydreaming of an easy life with my sugar daddy but it often leads to beautiful places and connections. Feeling, sensual, sensation flooding the body.

From there, it’s really about tapping into what that life feels like, embodying being worthy to indulge in all of life’s pleasures, and doing more of that.

How would YOU spend your time if your one purpose in life was to experience PLEASURE?

This is when it starts to get really interesting.

Part of this, for me, has been about dropping the masks I’ve worn throughout my life, the different hats, from the different versions of me I’ve performed. From here I find myself meeting my SELF - at my true core.

In taking time to practice this, I have found myself bathing in liquid rose gold rivers, streams and water falls.

There’s a wonderland that lives within.

Essentially YOU’RE asking your SELF…

- What do I like? = What turns me on? Isn’t somatics sexy!!

The data is in, the feedback is glowing: I’m fucking fantastic, 10/10 would tap again.

Truth is, we are absolutely worthy of living our best lives now! You don’t have to earn pleasure, it’s not limited and only to be exchanged through sacrifice.

And the more that I can acknowledge just how fabulous being me is, the more fabulousness comes my way. That’s not to say that I’m blind to all that’s gone on that’s made accessing this place challenging. That’s been metabolised! And I’m no longer moving from old wounds.

I’ve recognised how my experiences have shaped me, sanding my edges, whittled, carved into something special. Each of us, we’re unique pieces ✨.

Integration.

Finding ways to lean into pockets of loveliness, whether that’s sipping a warm mug of delicious tea, catching the sun rays reflecting on the mirror/window/wall, or watching the moon and the stars dancing in the sky.

It’s simple to return to the wonderland within.

It’s a practice to arrive and be able to indulge yourself while there.

Returning to the things that remind us ‘I am me, I am here, I am alive - and I am fabulous’.

Notice how those words land in your body now.

Where do you sense the ripples?

This is nervous system work, building our capacity to be with what is, by pivoting towards pleasure, and inviting the body to put down all that it’s held onto for us.

The world needs you to not only cultivate your own pleasure, so that you can bring more of YOU to the party.

But, because YOU in your pleasure, in your element, inspires others to do the same, spreading a message – that WE ARE OH SO VERY WORTHY ✨.

Practice SELF WORSHIP

If it feels unattainable to bathe in the river of caramel, I invite you to take a moment for yourself now. Take a fuller inhale through the nose. And exhale. Start to extend the exhales. Pause. Place your hand on your heart. Sense your heartbeat in your chest. Notice how it feels to be here right now.

Alive.

Present - the very place that pleasure exclusively exists in.

How is it to be with that?

The more we practice arriving here, the easier it is to get back to it.

This practice can be used in times of uncertainty. And it’s best used regularly. Practicing during steadier times helps to build pleasure neural pathways.

It’s a beautiful thing.

Playlist for you x

When I was signed off work for four months, suffering a nervous breakdown, I was unable to sense pleasure in my body. My body was shutting down; I was malfunctioning, I’d ignored the warning signals and finally broke. Part of my re(dis)covery journey, what with being signed off, put on an NHS waiting list, and having literally nothing else to do (it was during the pandemic), was to relearn how to play.

I’ll save the details for another time but where it lead me was in creating spaces to rest that felt safe. This brought me back to the memory of being a child, playing in my bedroom, on my own for hours. I would entertain myself; playing, coming up with choreography to classic pop bangers. Some times stared out of the window, into the distance and daydream. Play!

Music held me through that time. But something that I had loved so deeply, and for so long, had become over stimulating. Songs about love physically hurt, and there are a lot of songs about all types of messy love out there.

I curated a playlist that I could embody what it was to feel good.

This was the backdrop to the chrysalis that got me through some of my darkest times.

I wanted to embody what it could feel like to feel love.

I learnt to embody both the giving, and the receiving, of love.

In it’s purest form.

I allowed myself to feel into the power of love songs, to see myself through the eyes of a lover and practice recognising what that feels like as both giver and receiver.

Safety.

Reprogramming.

… It always catches me out, it’s so easy for me to forget where I was, how dark things got, I need to take a minute for that.

…

…

LUV, thank you for the opportunity to share with you. To dance in this space with YOU, as we to move towards having more pleasure in the ordinary.

Here’s the playlist of songs, all 18 hours long, that allowed me to re(dis)cover pleasure after being numb for so long.

Take care LUV x

LUV note themes for next time we speak …

• Relaunching the blog, reflections from last years trip to Uganda where I support a group of youth talking about periods at Nyege Nyege Festival.

• Groomed by the Patriarchy - in a new format. Spilling the tea only here on Substack, tales from my re(dis)covery journey.

• What do you think I’ve learnt from a year of celibacy?

• Details about the current workshop I’m working, hoping to launch this year - FANTASY. Combining decades of experience from working in the field of relationships and sex, and breathwork and somatic tools and techniques to feel more PLEASURE - so excited to share this with you!

Let me know if you have a favourite song from the playlist in the comments and tell me something in your life that feels pleasurable…

Speak soon,

All my LUV,

Heather Loweena x

My darling, 

I can’t believe how much time has passed. So much space has now formed between us. 

The truth is I’ve carried you in my heart all this time.

To be without you is to know Lonely.

With memories of days yet to come keeping my company in my dreams,

I am never alone. 

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LUVS, it has come to my attention, I mean big download from the God(desses) type thing, that the work I do to believe that we are deserving of a life filled with pleasure and other such delights - its all for you, for us! So for me to realise that I have been keeping it from you, it means that I have also been keeping it from myself. And that is just won’t do.

I’d love to have a bit of a catch up and let you know whats been going on so I invite you to pop the kettle on, get snuggled under a cozy blanket or put on your favourite jumper and settle in.

It’s been a while.

Firstly tell me - how on earth are you? Take a moment, a fuller inhale. Have a check-in with your Self.

Let the noise of the outside world settle

Notice what’s alive in you.

How does your inner world feel/look/taste/sound/smell?

What’s it like to be with that?

For as long as I can remember I have felt like I’ve had a story to share. I’ve kept diaries on and off throughout the years, with varying degrees of honesty. When I was 20 I started writing my biography but concluded that I needed to live my ‘happy ending’ for it to be a well rounded piece of work.

During my re(dis)covery years I documented my process of getting well. I found myself filling sketchbooks with words more than doodles, like I was transmuting trauma into beauty. Earlier this year I was published in the The Anti-Misogyny Club Journal which you can download here or buy here. But anytime I’ve approached this work as work, the breaks get pumped and I jump to how I could possibly incorporate all of the parts of me as well #nooneleftbehind.

The reason I’m telling you all of this is because once again I find myself at a crossroads, tasked with figuring the answer to that big question, the one that rears its head at the most inconvenient of times, ‘What am I doing with my life?’ This time it hits different.

It’s more…

‘What do I want to do with my life?’

Isn’t that lovely? It’s got a charm to it, a sense of magic, wonder and awe. See ever since I tapped out of the conventional life, leaving behind my partner of 10 years, the home we renovated together and the job I did, playing my best performance of ‘grown ups’ - when I return a new chapter ends I can’t help but feel I’m right back to square one.

The thing is, that version of me who traded everything in for uncertainty, she had no idea of the possibilities but she wasn’t limiting herself. She literally gave up everything she knew, the life she thought everyone else wanted because it was the life she’d been sold growing up as having it all. She wasn’t satisfied, not satiated, so what did she do? She said no thank you and went and figured it out.

I didn’t have examples of how to live a life in any other way than the conventional one, growing up. Especially being born into this world as a girl, my life was destined to play out as meet a man, get married, have a house, start a family and preferably in that order but it wouldn’t be the end of the world as long as each step was accomplished before the age of 30, 35 at a push. So what does it say about me that I’m now 36, on my own, without a home, no kids and I’d be a geriatric mother if I were even to conceive now.

It’s not you, it’s them.

Sounds like the patriarchy if you asked me. When I take a mo to let the external noise and chatter settle I can get a sense that these are not markers that I, nor anyone needs to live their life by. Women were seen as property and were traded from parent to partner - in some parts of the world this is still very much the norm. Just how many cows am I worth? Do I fantasise about meeting the right guy, the one who can afford me with a quality life that allows me the freedom to play and create? - sure but can’t a girl dream of a bit of financial security.

‘Show me how easy it gets’

I saw a post of Sahd Simone say this…

What if it didn’t have to be turmoil? What if it wasn’t life or death? How might it be to believe in easy? Look for the beauty in the chaos.

And that’s why I truly believe that my work is vital, it is vitality darling! It is everything. For as long as I keep myself from doing the thing, I am taking away from you too - and that’s just not ok with me. I’m not for one minute saying you need me, please don’t get it twisted. What I’m saying is, I believe pleasure is our birth right, and when there are things in the world that compromise our access to it, that created barriers and prevents our ability to indulge in it then it is even more necessary to embody it, in spite of the forces that feed off shrinking our light.

Fight fire with love.

Or don’t let the bastards win.

I’m not saying it’s easy, trust me, I have hung out in the darkest and dankest of places of my inner world and it was…

But I learnt to sit with my Self, bathe in my own filth without judgement. I developed love and compassion, empathy for all the parts of me, and with time I began to notice the jewels and the gemstones that lined that dank cavern. I saw it for what it was, the beauty - I saw me 💖.

And baby that is everything!

I want to tell you what magic blooms from this kind of LUV, and we will stick a pin in that and get back to it another day, oh I’m so excited to share all of it with you - I can’t wait!

All that to say…

As the signs of summer fade, and the colours of autumn brighten up the place, let me remind you and my Self, that this is not the time for action. After feeling into the abundance of harvest, taking stock of what delights I’ve welcomed in this year, I was in shock when I sunk into a puddle of doom. I was resisting what was here and instead writhing resisting the invitation to pause and just be with whats here.

Theres a grieving after the summer when the flowers die back, the floral scents that fill the air seem like a distant memory and fear creeps in disguised as kids dressed up in halloween costumes. This is a place where discomfort lives. And these days I’m no longer running from it. I feel into it. I create space and time to be with the feels. I invite them in, like inviting friends over for tea. I sit with them and I lean in. We sulk, we journal, we say things like ‘I’ll never be good enough for….’ and we keep leaning on our pleasure practices. We are meditating, getting into nature, making food - choosing to do what we can for our guest.

And the result. I’ve found my way back here, back to you. I know this is the work I want to do. And showing up for you means also showing up for me. Though that does have a taste of codependency and we are not about unhealthy connections here. I’ve realised that presenting multiple different versions of myself means that I’m always showing up with like a limb missing. Sex & relationships is at the core of everything I do and for me that is starting with the most important relationship any of us have - with YOU! Why would I then keep the tools, practices and stories of this work all separate? It just doesn’t make any sense, and for a practical point of view it’s clearly just too much for me to keep up with which is why I appear to drop off from time to time.

The vision.

I’m going to build the home of Heather Loweena here and within these walls will live all things Vulva Luv Club. There will be a room for somatic tools, practices you can use to enhance your beautiful lives. I want to share stories from the incredible people I’ve met whilst traveling around the world on my own, and my own tales of what it was really like - spoiler van life isn’t pretty like you see on social media. And I ant to feel your presence in this space too, as if we are sitting on the sofa together, all cozy after a wet walk in the woods, sipping warm drinks and drying are socks by the fire. Delicious.

As we begin I welcome your feedback, let me know what would be most helpful, what we could set off, how you’d like to be involved. Because without you, without us, this work will fizzle out. Share with a friend, let’s grow our LUV and see what new levels of beauty, magic and pleasure can be reached.

WOAH.

It feels like a big old weight has been lifted, its like a suitcase of plans has been popped down and now I can get to work unpacking this stuff. It’s time to sort out and set up, ready to decorate in anticipation of your arrival.

Get signed up to the newsletter.

This will be the place I share updates of any upcoming workshops, trainings and 1:1s get yourself signed up now. I wouldn’t want you to miss out and I won’t be filling your inbox, I promise.

I’ll take care of the admin side of things here.

Keep an eye out for posts here too. There’s a blog incoming from my trip to Uganda, where I took a group of young people to a festival to talk about periods. And I’ll be recapping my solo adventures to celebrate 10 years since tapping out of the conventional life 🎉

We made it. Genuinely, if you have made it this far share a comment and let me know what landed for you?

I can’t wait to catch up with you again but for now 😘

All my LUV,

Heather Loweena x

One of the safest countries in the world, they say.
Safe to walk the streets home, alone at night.
Safe for kids to play out late,
Sometimes it doesn’t even get dark.

I learned about safety from nature here.
Stormy, wild weather demanding respect.
Sometimes the roads close, you wait it out.
’Don’t walk on the lava’, You don’t fight the wind,
And snow days don’t mean life stops — you adapt, wrap up, move with it.

Then there was the safety I had to learn with people, with men.
Men who didn’t always treat me right.
Moments where charm blurred into control.
Where care came with conditions.
Invitations to come back home to myself — again and again.
Inviting me to notice when I wasn’t listening to my self.
Teaching me, painfully at times, that safety is a boundary you draw, Not something you’re handed, instructions left in the box.

I discovered what it feels like to be safe in relationship.
To be in relationship with my Self, open up and be met with care — not control or expectation.
I learnt not to shrink, not to mould myself into who they needed me to be that always made me feel sick.
People who reminded me that my “too much” was never too much for the ones meant for me.

This is the place that had me look deep inside myself. To stop giving out VIP front row seats for free to any Tom, Dick or Harry.
To untangle the ways I had learned to tolerate discomfort.
To finally recognise that real safety isn’t about never being hurt.
It’s about knowing not to tolerate hurt, harm - to trust yourself to walk away, And to hold your own hand as you go.

I’ve moved out of Iceland and am taking some time to land, let the dust settle and step into the new chapter ahead. I’d love to hear from you what landed for you, what safety feels like to you OR where you sense it in your body.

x

I have been running from myself for years. YEARS!

Sometimes it looked like volunteer work & activism, sometimes #vanlife road trips across Europe, and moving abroad.

Sometimes it looked like an awakening.

At other times it looked like staying in jobs that drained me,

Romantic relationships that silenced me,

And fighting for causes that left no space to fight for myself.

But for most of my twenties and early thirties I have been collecting stories.

They’re chaotic, raw, messy.

Stories of lust, grief, love and loss,

Stitched together by a thread of shame that I was unable to name.

Now, I’ve stopped running.

I’m writing my way home.

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This is not a polished memoir (yet). This is the raw process of piecing it together.

GROOMED BY THE PATRIARCHY

Over the coming months, I’ll be writing publicly - using this space to share parts of my story as I begin to make moves into a new chapter of my life. The blips, the near-misses, the beautiful fuck-ups and my attempts to outrun myself. The lovers, the jobs, the breakdowns on a backdrop of international volunteer work.

I want to bring you with me, you’re welcome 😉

But it’s not all in the past.

As I prepare to move back to the very town where much of this all started, the place I left perhaps in an attempt to create distance.

Doing the healing work time alone couldn't.

This is the place where you’ll find:

• Writing that peels back the layers of lust, grief, love, and self

• BTS of writing my first book (🤞)

• The tension of looking backwards while building a life forward

• Real-time reflections on moving back home — the ghosts, the nostalgia, the inner conflict and confrontation

• And the questions I’m still figuring out: What is closure, really?

This is me inviting you to walk this journey with me.

If you’ve ever felt like you were piecing yourself back together from the inside out,
if you’ve ever found yourself in a limbo, numb, disassociated or disconnected from yourself,
Or if you’re curious about what it takes to turn a decade of chaos into a narrative that heals

Subscribe, share and follow along.

The story is still forming
But I’m ready to birth it

x

I used to record run throughs of myself to test out the content before heading to schools and colleges across the county to deliver Relationship and Sexual Health Education.

Here is a taster of me sharing some of the basics that is, unfortunately, likely to be more than you received when you were growing up. Maybe you will be surprised at how much can be covered in just 20 minutes.

Head’s up - there will be more of this coming later this year, plans are underway to run some workshop this summer online. Keep you eye peeled and let me know what you want covered.

Now sit back and enjoy, and feel free to giggle - it’s good for your nervous system and you’re practice pleasure seeking AKA green flag hunting.

x

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In my last post I mentioned that I have been busy writing away. It is a meta experience when I begin to observe myself observing myself - all of the parts of my Self. I speak to the committee about what we can do now and where to go next. I notice my increase in consuming documentaries about women effected by men - Marilyn Monroe, Anna Nicole Smith, Pamela Anderson, Brook Shields to name a few. A hyper-fixation, an attempt at trying to make sense of the commonalities that run through their stories. Reflecting on the themes playing out in the macrocosm, a mirror of what goes on in the micro, on a cellular level, my life, my biology.

I’ve been staying up late speaking with AI asking big questions like ‘what systems and structures lead to rape?’. There’s a thread here that runs deep for me, a thread that led me to work in the field of Relationship and Sexual Health Education for 13 years. Since being made redundant, despite having big plans to come back to Iceland and continue flying the flag for the sex-ed revolution and finding teaching opportunities to speak with grown ups and young people - I have been glad that that dream didn’t come to fruition and instead I have had a chance to have a break and step away from the topic.

You can listen to the latest episode of the Vulva Luv Club podcast here where I speak with a friend who I used to work with and is still in the field of Sex-Ed in Schools.

The other piece of detective work is going back to who I used to be as a teen. During the intense years of my re(dis)covery journey (2021-23), I did a lot of digging, reframing and digesting on my own and through therapy. I know I have gotten a grip on what happened to me as a kid, how early life impacted the way I experienced the world, and the fall out of this as a young adult. It really has been quite a life and I wouldn’t change it because although I don’t need to identify myself by my mishaps, they have allowed me to take the profound journey into getting to know myself at the deepest of levels where I can experience a new depth of love for me and the world. And I am sure it has all contributed to my ability to support and work with some of the most marginalised people, sit with others in the darkest times and provide a steady footing to help them pick them selves up and get out of their pit. This is my pleasure, and such a privilege, to witness someone own their shit, the hurt and pain, when I know my own fear and shame kept me from getting help for a while.

And that’s the thing, for all the acceptance, digestion and procession, the recovering and moving on with my life, I never really spoke to my parents about my truth. I explored this with my therapist last month to sound out what was coming up for me. ‘I know there is a difference between privacy and secrecy, so I’m not sure what I would be hoping to achieve by disclosing these parts of me to them’. I decided to sit with this for a bit before making any moves and also be comforted by the fact that things always seem bigger to us than they actually to anybody else, because they are ours. Thankfully my subconscious got on board and I had a vivd dream play out a scene where I was acknowledging my gift ‘I am here to have difficult conversations’. I sat up, grabbed my phone and drafted a message out to my parents setting out my intention, what I hope to gain and it really didn’t feel like a big deal. Even after having done all of this work on myself, I am still surprised when I have these sorts of break through moments, I am reminded that I can put everything I’ve learnt into action and move through blocks that feels right for me. I didn’t stop there, I kept writing, I couldn’t stop. For days after I was just glued to my laptop only stopping for toilet breaks, to make something to eat and hydrate. I took this week off but I am eager to get back into that space after writing this. Is it the midnight sun or the attraction towards meeting myself in this raw state that has me wanting to stay up all night to keep going. A space, a nest I’ve made for myself to reflect and dive back into intimate moments from my more sexually active era, like an observer, throwing back popcorn and watching on remembering how things went with this one and that one….

So to celebrate my trip down memory lane I’m staying away from instagram, I want to spend more time here with my words, sharing and getting some things of my chest in a place that feels considerably more safe here on Substack. Over on Heather Loweena I’m also setting the intention at this full moon to be more realistic with what and how often I share there, the 3 x themes I’d picked to write about weekly - Self Worship, Pleasure Ministry and Re(dis)covery - ambitious. Instead, now I hope to share in a more manageable way that leads to more creativity made in a harmonious way. The gang is back together, me, my Self and I and we are excited for this new flex, this new energy and this new intention. Honouring the parts of me that weren’t ok for many years, who spent so much time (and energy), hiding from shame and guilt. Honouring the version of me who always loved sharing herself online back in the early days - she would have loved this.

To her, to you and all your parts too.

To us,

x

PS I made a new playlist to mark the occasion, think middle school disco - here

VULVA LUV CLUB @vulvaluvclub

Last week I woke from some intense dream, as I sometimes do, with the impulse need to grab my phone, open the notes app and get writing. For three days afterwards I was glued to my laptop typing everything out. Those that are close to me know I have joked about returning to Iceland last year to write my memoirs. I first attempted it in my early twenties but I always felt like I first needed to reach my ‘happy ever after’ ending and shelved it. As I see it, I new early that there was a thread unraveling in front of me and I felt a need to follow and document it. As I left behind my conventional life, the partner I had spent my whole adult life with - 9 years together - the home we had renovated together, my job as a youth worker, crossed my finger (closed my eyes), and hoped for the best and kept a journal to document my travels. When I reached my thirties my world came crumbling down. I had a nervous breakdown, my nervous system had a power surge and my body started to malfunction. The whisper to put pen to paper grew as I was moving through waves of a lifetime of unfelt, unprocessed and blocked out experiences. Now I am out the other side, I have found the LUV of me life - me, perhaps it just might be time to crack on with the story of my life.

For a while I have been attempting this entrepreneurial life, the life of a creative. I’ve done all the decolonising work around productivity and I recognise the worth of me, so therefore I know the value of my time and energy as well right? I dance around in limbo between giving it a go and wondering if maybe I should just go back to driving the ice cream van around Iceland again this summer. I’ve supported a few clients now with Self Worship and am always delighted that I get to help someone out using the Somatic EMDR and BodyOriented Coaching or holistic massage tools I’ve picked up - and it is such a privilege to support someone on this journey too. And I have tried different method of bring money in that I can pass on to support community around the world, like the young women in Uganda. I know there is something here to work with I just feel like I haven’t quite cracked the code.

So as I was going to sleep last night I had this idea. I want to make my work available for free. Currently I offer a sliding scale for any coaching or body work. There is some bits here on Substack hidden behind a paywall but it feels like I’m having a party on my own. I had missed a piece - I didn’t send out any invites. Supporting people - particularly women, the gays and theys - to be able to experience more pleasure in life is my ministry, it’s something that I feel incredibly passionate about and I couldn’t really imagine putting it down to go back to hustling in a day job, working to pay bills. This is my invitation to you, to come hang out in this space, to comment on content and let me know what lands, or share what you want to see more, or less, of. I want you to turn up to the party and join me on the dance floor, especially these days when it feels are access to pleasure is being threatened more and more on the regs.

Now if you sign up for the party you will receive a full membership to read, listen or watch all things VLC. And I’m giving you access to Heather Loweena LUV CLUB articles as well. There you will find pieces to support you and someone you know, offering somatic practices, more intimate reflections from my re(dis)covery journey and of course all things Self Worship….

So what are you waiting for, I know have to have fun on my own but I want to play/learn/create/share/make/dance and have fun with you. Click the link below to claim your access now and come and say hello in the comments

Heather Loweena x

PS I’ve made a playlist especially for this Strawberry moon - it’s giving middle school disco, you’re welcome ☺️💜

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Follow Emilie on instagram here @myhairyvulvaandme

VULVA LUV CLUB @vulvaluvclub

The sun is out, up to 16C already which is uncommon for Iceland. I go out for my walk in a hoodie and denim jacket and that’s when I catch people sun bathing in bikinis, tees and shorts. It’s that time of year and it is bittersweet.

On the one hand it is glorious out; the sweet floral aromas in the air, longer days. There’s a sense of fertility, sexiness riding on the coattails of spring. Memories of summer flings and sunsets, dancing at festivals and getting up to mischief create a montage in my mind.

And then there is this suffocating, restrictive, small minded voice inside. It’s a voice that shows up generally when I leave the house, one that I’ve had to work hard at keeping onside. Where I’d like to join other folk wearing a tee I tell myself I can’t go out without a bra on and as I stopped wearing a bra some years back (I’ve got crop top/sport bra type things for when needed), I tell myself it’s best I wear an extra layer to cover up… why should I have to be restricted like the ancestors who word corsets.

After learning about how Gillette (‘the best a man can get’), manufactured razors for women, to make more money, shaming body hair - something that occurs naturally - I don’t want to shave either. They are in part to blame for my 14 year old child self who felt the need to remove all my pubes as soon as they came, sexualised infantilisation. By the way this is what’s at the root of Groomed By The Patriarchy is you didn’t know already. But I can’t leave the house with my pale hairy legs on show, what would people say - what actually is there to say?

Whilst recovering from the nervous breakdown of ‘21, I went through a huge amount of unlearning. I started to see the impact the patriarchy had on me, and from such a young age 😔. I can remember trying to diet at age 9, then caving and breaking a fast with a bourbon biscuit. Before then I shaved off all my eyebrows, Mum having to draw them back on and a girl at school unable to figure out why I looked different. I thought I was just copying what my Mum and older sister did plucking theirs.

The reason I started therapy was because for too long I found that I would have a panic attack by just walking past someone male presenting in the street. I can’t even really be bothered to talk much more about that here, it was such a drain. Exhausting and an unnecessary waste of my energy. It wasn’t the guys fault, and my body was just trying to keep me safe but that’s how bad it got that I couldn’t be around men anymore without a flare up. And that's how bad it had to get before I decided that this was ridiculous and I needed to get help to do something about it. Urgh, yea it still bothers me even though that’s not my life now but that’s because of all of the work I did on my self, to be able to not be impacted my the presence of men ‘Protect Your Peace’. But some things remain like the voice in my head that judges me.

I never ‘came out’ as gay or non-binary, I guess I never felt like I announced I was straight, it was just something put on me from birth being born a girl. It’s also my business, nobody else’s. And, I was brought up in a heterosexual, monogamous world, I was groomed to go along with that script - there was no other representation and I was brought up in a christian family, what else would I become. My first introduction to a NB person was here in Iceland at an anarchist event. It was the first time I was asked my pronouns and I wasn’t sure what that meant. When this person introduced themselves, their name followed by ‘they/them’ I assumed it meant lesbian, butch, dressed androgynous and pushed away from femininity. And I thought why would someone who doesn’t conform be so ok with everyone knowing all of that about them by using ‘they/them’. I was very wrong.

Through the years, as I met more queer people I began to feel that perhaps this was something I could associate with. So when I was going through my re(dis)covery season, leaning into being non-binary, for me, was about leaning out of the connotations associated with being a women, pushing away from the harm that had brought. It was a liminal space I found comfort in where I could express myself dependent on my mood. When I didn’t want to be perceived as ‘female’ I’d wear baggier clothes, I didn’t necessarily need a label to explains my clothes though.

My self esteem was so low throughout childhood, and much of my adult life too, that I thought I looked like some creature that lived in the sewer, and that my existence was an inconvenience - jee whizz why was it so hard to love myself? When it came to venturing out into the big wide world to do a food shop or get some exercise I was still navigating looking femme (due to having long hair, I just never really cut it after shaving it all off in 2017 to raise funds for a refugee charity), and wanting to have more of mens freedom. Why can’t I walk around with a bare chest because I have breasts but men can. Why do I feel I need to wear a bra when going to work in a school because it’s more appropriate than young men knowing I have nipples ‘free the nip’.

My re(dis)covery journey coincides with sobriety so I’m not getting dressed up and going out like I once was. I still enjoy clothes and have bags of sequins and sparkles in storage at my parents house, I’m just not going out in general as much these days. I want to though. I want to dance the night away and not be worried about getting touched up or making sure everyone makes it home safely. I want to get ready with friends like we used to, sharing clothes and make up, doing each others hair, listening to tunes to get each other hyped. I want to live in a world that doesn’t feel like such hard work to just simply exist - and it’s not like I’ve got it the hardest as a white femme.

I’ve loved reclaiming what being a women means to me. I love using my cycle to support the way I’m living day to day. I love the history - what a club to be a part of, one shared with disabled women, black and brown women, trans women. And it breaks my heart over and over again when I think of all of the harm that has been done by the hands and minds of men to women, trans and NB folk 😢. I long to have more men in my life that bring joy, love and friendship. I dream about living in a world that’s curated to breed a sense of safety, that supports us to play and soak up all sorts of pleasurable things. That is the longterm dream of Vulva Luv Club, to be an IRL utopia with a bubble machine.

So whilst I was out today in my three day old lounge wear, yesterdays pants on and unshowered body, feeling that I wasn’t feminine enough to float around and not masc enough to go under the radar (I genuinely don’t think everyone notices me, not at all, it’s just the voice in my head that is hyper-aware, monitoring everything about me from how I breathe to how I walk - it is hard to ignore), I decided to meditate on a bench. I had no head phones to protect me, only sunglasses, and the innate knowing that I am worthy of existing. It was uncomfortable at first, every time I heard someone pass by I felt my body flicker in an attempt to appear normal, moving my hair behind my ear or tilting my head ‘nothing going on here’. And with time I felt a voice say ‘you deserve to be here’ and an energy moved through my body, my muscles loosened, a fuller inhale was possible. I stopped thinking about what passers by might be thinking of me and was able to feel more of me, and be with that. Eventually the 20 mins was up and I opened my eyes taking in the beaut of a view on a glorious days in front of me ‘behold’.

Ultimately it is work, it is the work we do on ourselves for ourselves. I can hold onto the bitterness and turn myself sour from the inside about all the reasons that lead me to feel this head fuckery. Or I can consciously choose how I feel about my Self and how I show up - for me! We are all oh so very worthy of being here, each of us has divinity running through us. It’s that Self Luv that tastes most delightful, a brew that you’ve conjured up for you. But it’s a practice, an art, a behaviour, a decision, a choice - that we must make again and again, even when and especially when, we forget just how loveable we truly are.

Luv you, Luv me

x