
Kirsty Beaton
20 Oct 2025
Coming Home to Your Womb
Beloved, listen well: your yoni has a story, and it is written not only in memory, but in flesh, in nerve endings, in the very cells of your womb and pelvis. Perhaps she is quiet, numb, or even defensive. Perhaps she resists touch, pleasure, or recognition. This is not a flaw. This is wisdom etched from experience.
You have lived in a world that taught you to override your body. You have said yes when every fibre of you whispered no. You have been trained to deliver yourself to others — partners, society, medical authority — before honouring your own consent. You may have experienced sexual encounters that were “consensual” on the surface yet left your yoni anxious or shut down. You may have felt the coldness of medical procedures, pap smears, surgeries, fertility treatments, birth interventions, or miscarriages and losses, all leaving subtle marks that the body holds long after the mind has moved on. Religious or cultural conditioning may have taught shame, silence, or modesty in ways that disconnected you from the sacred knowledge of your own temple. Perhaps you are queer, non-binary, or moving outside heteronormative expectations — your yoni still carries these echoes and deserves recognition too.
This work is not about performance. It is not about orgasm or pleasure for its own sake. It is about relationship. About reintegration. About bringing your yoni — your vulva, your womb, your sacredness — back into alignment with the rest of you. To remember that she is yours, she is a part of you, not an object for others or a vessel of pain. Healing here is radical. It is reclamation. It is homecoming.
Today, you come to listen. To honour. To reconnect.
The Ritual: Guided Devotional Practice
Preparation & Safety
Beloved, begin by creating a space that feels safe. Dim the lights or light a candle. Choose music or mantra or embrace silence. Have a towel, a blanket, virgin coconut oil, and perhaps a mirror ready. Keep a journal nearby. Let this be a sanctuary; a temple of your own making.
Place your hands gently on your heart and your womb. Take three deep breaths. With each exhale, whisper to yourself:
"You are safe. You are seen. You are loved. You may go at your own pace."
Consent is constant. At every touch, pause and ask:
"Is this welcomed today?" "Do I feel a full-bodied yes?"
If your body says no — pause. Wait. Honor her wisdom.
Arrival: Breath, Presence, & Grounding
Begin by breathing into your pelvis and your chest. Let the inhale bring warmth, the exhale release tension. Hum softly if it feels right, sigh if it rises naturally. Rock your pelvis gently or let your shoulders and legs tremble — the body knows how to release what is stored. This is not performance. This is listening.
Invite your ancestors, your sacred feminine guides and your inner child to witness. Whisper to your womb:
"I am here. I see you. I honour you."
Mirror & Dialogue
If you have a mirror, approach it slowly. Look upon your vulva, your labia, your yoni, as you would a sacred temple. Speak to her with tenderness:
"I am sorry for ignoring you. I am sorry for rushing you. I am sorry for saying yes when you whispered no. I am here now."
If judgment or discomfort arises, greet it as a passing cloud. You are witnessing, not fixing. You are seeing, not evaluating.
Full-Body Touch Before Yoni Contact
Before you begin, dear one, let me say this clearly:
Nothing in you is broken. Your body is not late. Your healing has not missed its moment.
Where there is pain, there is a story. Where there is numbness, there is protection. Where there is tightness, there is intelligence.
We will not rush her. We will not force her open. We will not demand that she perform, or awaken, or soften before she is ready.
This ritual is not a goal. It is a listening. A remembering. A homecoming.
If at any moment your body whispers pause — you stop. If your heart says not today — you bow to it with reverence. Consent is not assumed just because you are alone. You ask. You wait. You honour the answer.
With each exhale, invite yourself in, as though stepping barefoot into a temple — because you are.
Greet your body before you ever touch your yoni.
Start far from the place where the pain or numbness lives. Begin with the places that feel neutral, or even kind.
Before approaching your yoni directly, honour all parts of the body that have been intimate or protective:
Your thighs. Your belly. Your hips. Your breasts. Your arms. Your face.
With each touch, whisper:
“Hello, love.”, “I see you.”, “Thank you for carrying so much.”
Ask softly:
What have you been holding? Is there grief here? Anger? Loneliness? Exhaustion?
Let whatever arises be true. If emotion comes — tears, trembling, breath that turns jagged — let it. If you need to rock, or moan, or gently shake your limbs — follow your body’s lead. This is not performance. This is release.
Hands & Arms: Ask, “Where have you reached when you weren’t ready?” Shake, wiggle, or sigh to release tension.
Chest & Breasts: Ask, “What grief or pleasure do you hold?” Rock gently, hum, or let tears fall.
Belly & Womb: Ask, “What emotions are ready to be spoken through me?” Circle lightly, breathe deeply, or rest palms over her.
Hips & Thighs: Ask, “What has been held here — anger, desire, fear?” Let pelvis sway, legs tremble, or rock in small movements.
Legs & Feet: Ask, “How do you feel grounded?” Press, stretch, or stomp gently if needed.
At each place, listen first. Touch is not a demand; it is a question, a conversation, an invitation.
Optional Steaming or Massage
If you choose, you may prepare your yoni with gentle steaming or warm coconut oil. Let the warmth and moisture soften tissues and invite receptivity. Massage can be slow, soft, and reverent, moving only where welcomed. This is a ritual of care, not performance.
Approaching the Yoni
If and when you are ready, turn toward your yoni.
Ask her — “May I come closer?”
Do not assume the answer is yes. Some days she is closed, quiet, guarded. That is not failure — that is wisdom. If she says no, honour it fully.
If she allows you near, hold a mirror and look — truly look — not to analyse, but to witness.
This is me. This is my flower. This is my source. Sacred. Ancient. Holy.
If judgment rises — too this, not enough that — Greet it like smoke and let it pass.
Rest a hand over your vulva, gently — not pressing — just being there.
Say to your yoni:
“Hello, beloved. I’m sorry I ignored you. I’m sorry I rushed you. I’m sorry I said yes when you begged for no. I’m listening now.”
If yes, begin with soft contact at the outer lips, exploring with reverence. Observe responses, never pushing. When safe and welcomed, you may explore internal touch:
Only if she offers consent, anoint her with warm oil.
First, the outer lips — the labia majora — stroked as one would stroke a cheek, not with the mission of arousal, but with reverence.
Then the inner lips — perhaps they meet your touch with sensation, perhaps with quiet. Either is welcome.
Discover what she likes — not what you think she should like — but what she responds to.
Slow circling? Stillness? A firm palm held over her like blessing?
Ask her:
“What do you need to feel safe?” “What do you need to trust me again?”
If she does not answer, wait. If a memory flashes — an old encounter, a medical procedure, a birth that tore you open, a loss that lived inside — pause.
breathe.
“I’m here. I won’t abandon you now. You are not alone in this.”
"I enter only with your full-bodied yes."
If and only if she offers a full-bodied yes, you may explore internal touch.
One oiled finger, invited, not inserted. Rest at the entrance, asking again:
“Are you ready to receive me today?”
If the answer is yes — enter slowly, blessing every increment as you go.
Meet tightness not with force, but curiosity.
“What lives here, dear one?”
Sometimes it feels like anger. Sometimes grief. Sometimes nothing at all ;numbness, the body’s final shield.
Whisper:
“You may feel. It is safe to feel. Even if it burns. Even if it aches. I am not afraid of you.”
Move with curiosity, breath, and stillness. Feel, notice, and listen. This is communion, not conquest.
Release Pathways
If sensations, memories, or emotions arise, allow them sacred exits:
Sound: sigh, hum, growl, moan, cry.
Movement: rocking, shaking, rolling, swaying.
Breath: exhale fully, let tremors run.
Journalling: write what arises — gratitude, grief, forgiveness — then burn, bury, or release it.
Affirmations: whisper, “You are safe. You are loved. You are seen. I will not abandon you.”
If words want to be spoken — speak them. “No more.” “Never again.” “I forgive you.” “Let me go.”
Remember: there is no timeline. There is no goal. Healing is presence, curiosity, and reverence.
Aftercare & Integration
When you feel complete — whether after five minutes or an hour — close with devotion.
Place your hands over your womb and whisper:
“Thank you for trusting me. Thank you for speaking. Thank you for surviving.”
Visualize warm golden light pouring into your pelvis — filling every place that once held pain.
Picture roots extending into the earth, grounding through your feet. Whisper to yourself:
"Integration is happening. I am safe. I am home."
Journal — not to analyse, but to honour.
“Today my body told me…”
If emotions are still swirling —Wrap yourself in warmth. Place your hands on heart and womb. Breathe. Drink water or tea. Lie down if needed. Let the body integrate the ritual at its own pace.
Do not rush to productivity. Healing asks for integration.
Return to your life gently, knowing that every touch, breath, and whispered apology is a step toward reclaiming your body, your womb, your sacred yoni.
Beloved, this is not a one-time practice. It is a relationship. Each visit is an offering. Each whisper, touch, sigh, or tear is a prayer. Your yoni remembers. Your womb forgives, and with each ritual, you come fully home to yourself. 🌸🕯️

