I have to be honest with my readers. When told I was being sent out to test Latishas Yoni Steam Temple, Nosara’s ultimate Yoni experience – my emotions were mixed. As a Paltrow-certified Yoni Steam Practitioner myself, I looked forward to an impartial, professional reconnaissance. But as a sexually evolved woman with a deep appreciation for awakenings and all things unknown – I was already in trouble.
As long as I can remember, I have found myself lingering on Latishas Instagram posts – without knowing why. Her honey-brown skin somehow had a way of making my phone screen disappear. Those Medusa curls cascading down her back in that Greek island photoshoot. And her pole dancing videos. These I definitely watched more times than can be explained. The woman had range. I felt professionally intimidated. Maybe other things too.
Latisha answered the door, and I immediately forgot why I was there. White silk clinging to a body that seemed to glisten beneath – like she’d been dipped in sacred oils just moments before. Her hair ran wild, somewhere beyond her gaze. My interview questions evaporated. They were completely gone.
She took me with both hands and said “Come in, sister,” in a soft voice that made “sister” sound both like a promise and a threat. The white silk was barely a veil – beneath, her whole body unmistakably glowed with intention. Everything around us seemed to glow with intention—candles, crystals, and what looked to be a very elegant whip coiled on a side table. Thinking it would help, I tried to keep my focus on the whip, but lost it. She had turned, and now she was moving through the room like water, pulling me towards her lair.
She turned, and slipped a small jade egg into my hand. “Rose quartz is for beginners.” I heard her say. “And I know you are not a beginner.” She squeezed my hand lightly.
From her website, I knew exactly how much this egg was going to cost me. $888. As a Platinum Level Paltrow MLM facilitator, I get the jade Paltrow Explorer for $47 and resell it for $250. But this rather petty thought floated quickly away as we arrived in Latisha’s inner sanctum. Latisha’s lair. The Latisha Yoni Temple Experience was beginning to accelerate.
Together we sank down onto a sheepskin rug that felt like the most luxurious place on earth, with Latisha kneeling just across from me. “We’ll start with kundalini breathwork to activate your lower chakras,” she whispered. I tried to shift my awareness off of her and towards my chakras and failed miserably. Her breath retention was two counts short. I tried to focus on that. I thought of correcting her, but I didn’t. I couldn’t. I found myself watching her silk move as she breathed. I tried to think of how I might write about that. No words floated up.
Time lost all focus. At some point I heard her say, Shanti. It’s time. I knew what this meant. It was time to ohm into our yonis. “The vibrations do the inner work,” she said.
My inners were definitely working. So was my heart rate. I felt unprofessional. My story was going off the rails quickly. I closed my eyes again and ohmed deeper into my Yoni. Into my temple. Into my deepest inner being.
When I opened my eyes again, i found her prowling towards me, carrying a hand-carved teak throne. Her prowl made my carefully maintained bisexual composure crumble. I found myself hoping it didn’t show. Maybe I am a lesbian after all, I suddenly thought. Maybe that night at summer camp really did happen. She lowered herself in front of me, the Yoni Throne between us. “I’ve blended mugwort, rose petals, lavender, and dragon’s breath root for you,” she whispered. I nodded, unable to form words.
The steam began, and the warmth spread between us. “Now we welcome the egg home,” Latrisha said, saying “home” in a way that made me tremble. She returned the jade egg – now perfectly warm – into my palm. Her fingers lingered. Yes. Definitely lingered. “This is your ancestors’ wisdom returning to your womb temple,” she said, holding eye contact. I forgot all about Paltrow Explorer MLM pricing, about my new and as yet tentative lesbian identity, about my own Yoni certification, and about my article. I forgot about everything except Latisha’s golden skin, just inches from mine. Her gaze flowed unobstructed into my eyes. I felt myself both seen – and completely undone.
“How does it feel?” Latrisha asked quietly, her voice dropping lower, and I suddenly realized she wasn’t just asking about the egg. “Transcendent,” was all I could manage. Which was accurate, because I was clearly transcending all boundaries I’d set for myself as a journalist. “My womb space is vibrating at a completely new frequency.” Also true. The room was vibrating, she was vibrating, my egg was vibrating, my phone was vibrating. I knew the sound. It was my Black Del Mar Visa card being charged. She smiled—a real smile this time, not the guru smile—and said that it was the $999 going through. “It shows up as “Spiritual Counselling” she said, smiling. In my mind, all I heard was “Sexual Awakening.”
It was time to go. At the door, she hugged me—a full-body hug that lasted several seconds longer than it probably should have. “Your frequency has completely shifted. I can feel it,” she said, pulling away slowly, and looking into my eyes. She was right. My frequency had shifted. I saw several glasses of wine in my very near future, and therapy just out beyond. “Please come back,” she said. “There’s so much more for us to share.” Over her shoulder, I saw the coiled whip. She smiled, and touched my arm goodbye.
At home, I watched three of her pole dancing videos – for research purposes – before sliding into bed. Where, stomach down, I found the story. Right where it was. All along.
