When my Eros spoke in three voices

Today has been one of those days… the kind that reminds me exactly who I am.

I am a sexual woman. And I fucking love it. I love people knowing I’m a sexual woman. I love being seen as sexy. I love being a little bit naughty, a little bit provocative. It’s not an act, it’s who I am.

Even my astrology says so. Cue spiritual ego, haha, no but seriously. My Lilith placements light up the parts of me that were born to flirt with edges, to stir the pot, to embody eros in my own way. My Venus in Leo? Of course she loves to be admired, adored, celebrated. She wants to play, to shine, to express.

So what did today look like?

It looked like going to the beach in a bikini and taking photos that made my boobs look good.

It looked like coming home, cooking dinner in a flowy dress with no panties on, ha! Just because it made me feel deliciously alive.

It looked like a quiet hum of “mmm yes, this is me” running through my body as I moved through the day.

I adore this about myself. This unapologetic sensuality. This eros that seeps into the everyday.

And yet… as much as I love this side of me, as much as I trust her, I’m not immune to the shadows that come with it.

Because every time I say yes to teaching about sexuality and eros, life initiates me first. And recently, those shadow parts of me were triggered.

What came to the surface wasn’t just one voice, but three. Three different parts of my erotic self, all clamouring at once. And for a moment, I felt split open and spun out. Dizzied and confused…

The Trigger

It felt like my body and mind fractured in different directions all at once. One part of me wanted to collapse into needing reassurance. Another wanted to throw herself wide open in hunger. And another wanted to light a match and burn the whole damn thing down.

It was noisy inside.

Contradictory.

Exhausting.

I could feel my eros wanting to speak, but instead of one clear voice, I had three shouting over the top of each other, pulling me apart.

I tried to talk it out with a friend, but the words came out clunky. Messy. I hesitated, unsure. I stumbled over myself because I didn’t know which voice to follow. Everything felt tangled, like a knot I couldn’t untie.

For a moment, I thought maybe something was wrong with me? Am I fucked up? Was I being too much, too contradictory, too complicated to make sense?

But then it landed: the confusion wasn’t because I lacked clarity. It was because I didn’t yet know the voices inside me.

So I began listening. And three distinct parts of my erotic self stepped forward.

Meeting the Three Parts of My Eros

1. The Needy One

She feels like a little girl in my body. Small, tender, wide-eyed. Her hands reach out for reassurance, terrified that if she’s not chosen she’ll disappear into nothingness. She wants to hear, “I love you. I choose you. I’m here.”

When she doesn’t hear it, she spirals into: “I’m not lovable. I’ll never be enough. Someone better will always come along.”

For so long, I wanted to dismiss her ~ to shame her for being “too needy.” I wanted to tell her: “You shouldn’t want external validation.” But when I actually sat with her, I realised she’s just a child.

You don’t tell a child not to need. You hold them. You reassure them. You show up again and again until they trust you’ll stay.

And when I did that, she revealed something else: behind her longing is my creativity. She protects the artist in me by demanding safety first. She’s not weak ~ she’s the guardian of my expression.

2. The Hungry One

She is fire in my veins. Raw eros. She wants to be desired, pursued, claimed. She craves surrender ~ that electricity of being fully met in her hunger, no shame, no holding back.

When she’s alive, it feels like ecstasy in my body. Like I could finally exhale, finally melt, finally breathe.

But most of the time she hides under shame. The shame my mother carried around nudity and sexuality. The shame that whispers: “You’re too much. Your desire is dangerous. You can’t trust yourself here.”

When I drink wine, she slips past the shame. Alcohol quiets the inner judge just long enough for her to burst out. Nothing like red wine and kinky passionate sex, am I right!? I joke… but also…

What she really wants isn’t recklessness. She wants reverence.

She wants me to build her a temple.

To honour her hunger with dance, with movement, with deliberate containers where her desire isn’t dangerous but holy.

Her message to me was simple:

“I’m not something to be afraid of. I’m magnetic. I will transform your life if you let me.”

3. The Rebel

She’s the wild one with fire in her grin. The part of me that, when I feel cornered, snarls fuck it and throws gasoline on the floor.

She provokes. She posts unfiltered. She stirs chaos. On her worst days, she’ll blow everything up just so I don’t have to sit in the ache of feeling powerless.

But beneath her destruction is a sharp, holy truth. She’s the one who shouts:

“Women have been fed a lie about their sexuality. Expression isn’t wrong. Violation is wrong. Stop confusing a woman’s erotic power with permission to trespass.”

When I let her speak through my writing or teaching instead of through sabotage, something shifts. People don’t turn away. They lean in. They feel the fire and say, “me too.”

She’s not here to wreck me. She’s here to keep me free.

The Thread Between Them

Together, these three voices showed me the deeper truth: What I want most is to feel free in my erotic expression without fear of abandonment, shame, or violation.

• The Needy One shows me the wound.

• The Hungry One shows me the life-force.

• The Rebel shows me the protector.

When I didn’t know them, they contradicted each other and left me confused. But now that I’ve named them, they no longer sabotage me. They’ve become teachers.

Maybe you know these parts too.

The needy one who just wants to be chosen.

The hungry one who wants to be fucked wide open.

The rebel who wants to flip the middle finger to every cage she’s ever been put in.

None of that makes you too much.

It makes you alive.

We’ve been told to shrink these voices, to shame them, to tuck them away. But when you actually let them speak? They’re not dangerous, they’re holy.

This is the initiation I’ve been walking through as I prepare for Awaken Her. And now I want you in it with me.

If you’re ready to meet the parts of your eros you’ve kept in the shadows, come join us. We’ll breathe, move, touch, sound, laugh, rage, cry, and unravel. We’ll let eros out of the cage, together.

Because your sexuality was never meant to be “safe” for patriarchy. It was meant to be untamed, magnetic, and fucking alive.

The Harmony

When they’re embodied, they form a living trinity of eros:

• The Needy One becomes The Devoted Heart ~ tender, receptive, able to receive love fully.

• The Hungry One becomes The Sacred Flame ~ magnetic, ecstatic, alive.

• The Rebel becomes The Fierce Truth-Teller ~ unapologetic, liberating, a voice of revolution.

Together they balance each other.

• Without the Heart, the Flame can scorch.

• Without the Flame, the Rebel can harden.

• Without the Rebel, the Heart can collapse.

But together, they are devotion, ecstasy, and freedom.

The Collective Thread

The more I sit with these three voices, the more I realise: they aren’t just mine.

Every woman I know has felt versions of them.

The one who longs to be chosen.

The one who craves to be ravished.

The one who wants to burn the lie down.

We’ve inherited these voices through culture, through our families, through centuries of shame. Patriarchy has split us into fragments: the “good girl” who’s needy for approval, the “slut” who’s too much, the “rebel” who’s dangerous.

But when I listen closely, I see they were never meant to be enemies. They were always meant to dance together.

That’s what eros looks like when it’s whole.

And maybe that’s the invitation here ~ not to silence the parts of us that feel contradictory, but to get to know them, to let them speak, to find out what they’re protecting.

So I’ll leave you with a question:

Which voice is loudest in you right now? The one who longs, the one who hungers, or the one who rebels?

Because they’re not here to shame you.

They’re here to teach you.

They’re here to bring you home.

And it you want to join the workshop, you can by tapping/clicking here ➡️ Awaken Her