I love a good story and my goodness do I enjoy telling them, however for this particular story of how The Pleasure Party began, I don’t really like telling it, because it’s long, so freaking long and filled with trauma and sadness, frustration, grief, regret and all sorts of other crap emotions no one wants to feel in a story, we want to get to the happy ending, not be trawled through an emotional rollercoaster.
Now, obviously, I’m not going to downplay these types of emotions and events that bore this beautiful pleasure child, I’m going to skim over it ever so briefly, because I believe a good story, especially about something as freaking magical as this should feel like a swim in the ocean, you plunge in, go nice and deep and emerge, refreshed and renewed. But as I’ve put at the top of the post, this has a trigger warning.
So here goes.
10 years ago, I had a breakdown, it was completely unexpected to everyone, especially me, and massive. I did something, I never imagined I could do. Late one evening, I left my loving home, with my beautiful husband and 3 amazing kids, took myself to the river thames, downed a ridiculous amount of medication, not just a couple of paracetamol, but everything that a family of 5 could accumulate over about 5 years. I emptied the medicine cupboard into a couple of Sainsburys bags and it was mammoth. I’m sure I used all of the Calpol and baby Nurofen sachets as well as vitamins. Basically, if it was in a blister pack it was going in my body.
Sitting by the river, I prayed that God would help take my life because I was such a useless excuse for a human. Long story short, it didn’t work, I mean, it really didn’t work, so I begged God this time, please help me and then I looked towards the beautiful river and saw that the moon was full and was shining the most beautiful silvery path on the river directly towards me. That was the sign I was waiting for. I thanked God profusely and then walked in. Oh the feeling was amazing, I felt like I was being hugged so tightly that I felt confident that this was the right thing to do and I walked until I treaded water and eventually passed out.
Bit deep now isn’t it, shall we pop our heads out of the ocean soon and get to the good bit?
So I've been told 2 different versions, because unless I do some more deep work on this, I can honestly say, I don’t really remember it, but this is the thing I’ve learned over my past glorious 10 years of doing this work on myself, we don’t really need to go into the full story to heal the trauma. We really don’t. We often make our healing process so much harder than it actually needs to be.
Story 1: Kingston Hospital – This was the biggest overdose we have dealt with to date. You were found at 4:15am floating a mile down from where your car was parked by the police who retrieved you and brought you here. You were clutching your wig in your right hand.
Well of course, if I’m going to die, I’m going to die fabulous, that had always been a promise to myself.
Story 2: A couple who lived by the river saw me float by at around the same time and saved me and took me into the hospital.
I have never found them to thank them.
Either way, it didn’t work and just when I thought I had ended all of my internal suffering, I now had to deal with all the pain this event, this event that I created, had caused on all the people who loved me. I had to face the fact that I left my 3 children, that was definitely the hardest, I had to face my beautiful loving confused husband who’s heart had broken and had no idea why I would do this. I had to face my little sister who was my bestest friend in the whole world and my incredibly nurturing Mummy. My parent in laws who were everything to me as I was to them. Literally, I just walked my arse into the biggest shit show.
But overall, I had to work out, why the fuck I did something so freaking dramatic. Did I really want to die?
Turns out, I didn’t, but before I realised that, I blamed everyone around me (apart from the kids) for what I had done to myself and to them. Bit of a shitty move, but I was still in victim mode.
My husband arranged for me to stay in a wonderful hospital, which was more like a hotel, to heal. This is where I learnt that I wasn’t depressed, I was exhausted. I refused all medication they wanted to put me on to treat depression. I needed for myself to face my demons head on, and they came, thick and fast. It was terrifying but it was the only way through to understand why I did what I did.
I promise you, we're getting to the good bit, so I invite you now to just have a little body shake, please do it, it works. And shake off the heavy emotion. It’s not yours to hold.
I began searching for answers and healing and I reached out to psychotherapists, sexologist, hypnotherapists, womb doctors and healers in every modalities I could find over the next few years, trying everything, and I mean everything I could, learning and embodying all of these practices to heal myself. I had to learn how to forgive myself for what I had done and humble myself to ask for forgiveness from the people that I had hurt through my actions. Their forgiveness came easier to me than mine to myself because they loved me and had never stopped, it was I who forgot how to love me.
I found that after spending 10’s of thousands of pounds trying to heal myself, the most effective relief, transformation and lasting change I experienced came from those that were totally free to my body, and I started to experience the most incredible amount of freedom and pleasure within, this is how I healed. Not digging into the problems and the past, but fuelling my body with pleasure that naturally released the trauma without putting me through it again.
Ding Ding Ding Ding!
It was like finding a magic button on your iPhone and knowing that all of your friends had an Iphone too. Wouldn’t you want to show them this magic button?
Now because I had such a supportive network of friends, I invited them all over one day to show them this magic button. And that my friends, is how the Pleasure Party began. I showed them simple techniques that I had learned that released me from pain and suffering that didn’t take long to do and created wonderful experiences within.
They were hooked, as was I. Now I have not stopped learning, and neither have they. Anything that works for me, I share, anything that didn’t work for me, I devise a way to make it work for me and others.
It started off as a Women’s Circle, where we shared our stories, did group healing and had a beautiful feast, but then evolved as all amazing things do, into something really exceptional.
It is now a proper party, sometimes its themed sometimes it's not. We get dressed up, or not depending on how we individually feel, we have intuitive DJ’s and MC's curating music to deepen our healing experiences, we dance or we choose not to, we have performers, readings, healers and ceremonies and work and play with the power of personal connection and crystals, we have a beautiful sharing feast of all of our personal pleasure foods and drinks and all those fabulous things.
Not all of us regard ourselves as spiritual, but where we connect is that we are all women and we love celebrating the beauty of that unapologetically. It’s a place for genuine joy, pleasure, fun and connection. It’s not heavy, deep or based in spiritual practices, we don’t all bleed together, but we come together as unique individuals, all with the sole intention of being authentically ourselves and living from our truth.
I invite you to check out our schedule and see if you fancy joining a party, and see how easy it is to heal through pleasure and female connection. Come as you are and exactly how you feel. Everyone is welcome and there is no judgement whatsoever. Our only rule is for you to be you authentically, when you are you in your authenticity, you shine.
Sending you all waves of pleasure x