Sex is sometimes (OK, usually) the only exercise I get, so that whole “Oh, boy! I can’t even walk,” sensation pretty much is a given. It’s going to happen. Sorry to burst egos, but it’s not you. It’s me. And my atrophied muscles.
One area of the body that is important to keep strong is your pelvic floor. Sure, it helps with incontinence when you get older. Of course, that’s where babies are birthed from. But OYoga focuses on not just the physical, but other benefits of pelvic exercise: mental health boost, feeling like a sexy goddess and orgasms.
The fine folks at Dame, a sex toy business focused on empowering women and that inviting that big O, invited me to take a group OYoga class with lead trainer and sex and intimacy coach Tatiana Dellepiane.
Unfortunately, at the time I was having a bit of a hiccup in the mental health department and depression was trying to take the Iron Throne (spoiler: I won), so I was not feeling the sexy and I was not in a chill mood. Tatiana was so positive and soothing, it was hard to not feel better after the class. I mean, yoga to Beyoncé’s Drunk in Love? F-ck yeah. Yoga while whipping your hair around, crawling on the floor and running your hands all over your body. No doubt.
If you’re thinking, “Oh, my mom and I love to do yoga!” remember this is OYoga. It’s all about p-ssy power. Yes, own the “P” word and be body positive, Tatiana encouraged us.
OYoga worked those muscles and then some. Tatiana reminded us that there is no shame in feeling pleasurable sensations while we tucked and tightened. She said it was OK to get wet.
The only wet I felt was sweat and the only sensations I had were when my legs were shaking because my muscles were like, “We’re doing what now?” but again, out of shape + depression = grumpy Kimmy.
There was a mix of moves you could do on your own, with a partner or seriously to tone your muscles. We weren't sitting in a circle doing Kegels. We were doing yoga, albeit "namaste-ing" in a very sexy way.
Looking back, it had to be funny for anyone walking in the hallway outside of the class. At one point, there were 20-30 women thrusting up to a kneel while yelling, “Yes! Yes!” At the end of the class, a low, rumbly, seductive “mmmmmmmm” emanated from the class.
And the coolest thing was no one was judging. Legit, everyone was having the time of their lives getting into it and connecting with themselves that we each were our own beacon of positivity unified in the room to make a p-ussy powered light. No one looked at you if you felt embarrassed because all the women in the class were doing their thang.
Since that class, I’m feeling better. I even went to the gym (once) and I'm ready to coax out my inner Namaste Beyoncé. For those of us who aren't comfortable with our bodies, or get beaten up by depression or think we aren't sexy, just remember: Todos somos Beyoncé (We're all Beyoncé).
That's p-ssy power.