The sex education I never got.
I grew up in a highly religious environment where sexuality came with plenty of expectations, but not necessarily much room for curiosity.
I wasn't allowed to participate in sex education.
And when sex is surrounded by silence, shame or messages about what you should and shouldn't feel, it doesn't exactly leave much room to get curious about your own body, pleasure or desires.
Looking back, I wonder how different our relationships with sexuality might be if we'd been given opportunities to explore it openly, without embarrassment, judgement or the expectation that there's a right way to experience it.
What if sex education went beyond reproduction, risk and what not to do?
What if we also learned about pleasure, desire, arousal, anatomy, communication, boundaries and our sexual responses? And what if some of that learning happened through the body, rather than just through information?
For me, Sexological Bodywork brings those possibilities together.
My studies in psychology and social work, alongside my exploration of somatic practices, have deepened my interest in how we experience ourselves through our bodies.
But my interest in this work isn't purely academic.
It's personal.
I'm drawn to the conversations we don't always have, the questions we're embarrassed to ask and the parts of ourselves we sometimes keep hidden.
I want people to have opportunities to explore their sexuality without feeling that something needs to be wrong with them first.
And when something is difficult—whether that's desire, arousal, orgasm, sensation or sexual confidence—I want those conversations to be just as welcome.
I believe we deserve opportunities to understand our sexuality, explore our pleasure and ask questions without shame. Not just when something goes wrong, but because sexuality is part of being human.
Perhaps it's time for the sex education we never got.
