I write this after just now encountering another of your brethren—this time on Tinder—with the profile name, “Yoni Massage.”

Seriously?! Enough with the Tantric player archetype.

I live in the Disneyland of spirituality, (Ubud, Bali) and Prince Charmings these days all seem to come from the school of Polyamory Players ‘R Us.

While it’s not generally a pool I dip my toes (or any part of my body) into thank-you-very-much, I would just like to point out, you’re pretty obvious.

I’d ask if anyone falls for it—but they do.

The number of women I’ve met in this small town who’ve said “I thought we had a real connection,” and “I feel played,” is sad, and short of some Sanskrit or sacred geometry tattoos, you’re no different from the pack of bros’ from which you came.

The idea that sexual connection is something casual, or that people are unevolved for wanting a monogamous relationship, is about as sad as the fact that literally all of these women you deem so goddess-esque look strikingly similar to the skinny, insecure girls you dated before you grew your hair out into a man bun, got a spirit name, and went “high-vibe.“

While you respect and feel “energetically called” to these women looking for themselves through the Lululemon lens of self-love (more power to you, ladies—you do you!), seeing strong, empowered women travel halfway around the world only to get the wind knocked out of them from a wolf in sheep’s clothing—or player bro in Thai fisherman pants—is getting old. Real old.

You’re no longer some minor annoyance of the periphery, and I’m speaking up because you’re on the path to becoming a true affront to all women.

“Yoni Massage” is just the latest in a series of characters who’ve risen to the forefront of my community lately. While there have always been cliques of health and image-wary yogis, these things have become more common—with one of your own even posting a video about how offensive a woman in a public yoga class was because her armpit hair was visible!

Women are not here for your pleasure.

Let me just repeat that: Women are not here for your pleasure.

We aren’t all going to be your cup of tea, as some of us are coffees, hot chocolates, champagne, and none of your darn business!

We are wild, we are messy, we are human, and when we let ourselves be all of these things, we are magic.

It took a long time for some of us to love ourselves, and every time you make one of us feel like we’re not enough, you’re dampening the magic of someone’s sister, cousin, daughter, best friend, or even mom. Guess who takes those, “Am I enough?!” calls. We do.

Apart from the oceans of self-doubt so many women surf, to deny our human instincts to bond with our partners, eat, move, groom, dress, and love how we want, you miss out on so much!

While part of me knows that some of you may not get there (at least in this lifetime), I hope you do.

I hope you get to know someone so well that you can tell what they mean by just their exhale, that you love them purely for who they are, show up for them when they really need it, and let yourself be so vulnerable that they can, in turn, be that vulnerable with you.

From my (albeit limited) knowledge of Tantra, generally decent knowledge of sex, and expert knowledge of being a woman, the more you show up, the more we trust you. The more we trust you, the more we let you in, figuratively, and quite frankly, literally.

Real intimacy doesn’t come from mind-blowing orgasms, or sharing raw chocolate (although there’s some really great raw chocolate here), it’s from trust, respect, showing up, consistent support, and vulnerability.

My sincerest wish is that you get there—for when you do there’s some magic waiting for you.

Love and light,
NJ
~

Author: Norma Jean Belenky
Images: Author’s own
Editor: Catherine Monkman