When the Moon Moved into My Body

As a child, I read my horoscope in magazines. Aries. Fire. Impulsive. Warrior. I recognized myself, but only partially. Inside me lived another rhythm. A part that stayed. That felt. That chose depth over speed. When I discovered that beyond the Sun there was also the Moon in a birth chart, something shifted. My Moon in Taurus lived in the body. She slowed down. She listened. She remained. That was my first internal brake. Lunar observation became my first embodied practice long before I knew the language of psychosomatics. I continued looking at the sky, but differently. I looked to understand how I was moving inside myself. Some weeks I felt more open and expressive. Other weeks I wanted silence, fewer words, more space. The Moon stopped being something distant. It became something I felt. Through her, I learned something simple and radical: The body asks to be listened to. ✨️✨️✨️✨️✨️✨️✨️✨️✨️✨️✨️✨️✨️✨️✨️✨️✨️✨️✨️✨️✨️✨️✨️✨️✨️✨️✨️✨️✨️✨️✨️✨️✨️✨️✨️✨️✨️✨️✨️ Then I moved. I slowed down. It became my greatest act of freedom. In that slowing, I began to truly feel my body. Sensations. Emotions moving beneath the skin. I understood that whenever I felt switched off, it was not a lack of discipline. It was disconnection. And the body is the doorway to vitality. ✨️✨️✨️✨️✨️✨️✨️✨️✨️✨️✨️✨️✨️✨️✨️✨️✨️✨️✨️✨️✨️✨️✨️✨️✨️✨️✨️✨️✨️✨️✨️✨️✨️✨️✨️✨️✨️✨️✨️ Over time, I became devoted to my cycle. Devoted in a concrete way. I began tracking it. Respecting its phases. Noticing when I needed to expand and when I needed to retreat. I united my menstrual cycle with the lunar cycle. Not out of superstition. Out of resonance. When the Moon was growing, I felt expansion. During Full Moons, my body felt fuller, more sensitive. In darker phases, I needed quiet. I was not seeking perfection. I was seeking relationship. It became an art. An art of listening. An art of regulation. An art of respect. Moving cyclically in a linear world became an act of inner coherence. ✨️✨️✨️✨️✨️✨️✨️✨️✨️✨️✨️✨️✨️✨️✨️✨️✨️✨️✨️✨️✨️✨️✨️✨️✨️✨️✨️✨️✨️✨️✨️✨️✨️✨️✨️✨️✨️✨️✨️ During my training as a psychosomatic and sexual practitioner, I was invited to become more familiar with my cervix. I took a speculum. The Latin word speculum means “mirror.” It comes from specere: to look, to observe. The first time was intense. I expected softness. What I saw felt raw. Textured. Real. Not polished. Not aesthetic. Not shaped for someone’s gaze. It was living tissue. Sensitive. Present. There was nothing symbolic about it. It was there. In front of me. When I speak of the womb or the cervix, I am not speaking only of anatomy. I am speaking of spaces, energetic, symbolic, alive. Hermetic spaces. Centers of intuition, memory, creativity, and relational intelligence. Even when the physical organ is absent, this inner territory can still be felt, perceived, inhabited. The first encounter felt distant. Later, I returned. In the meantime, my body had experienced a different kind of touch. Slow. Loving. Present. When I inserted the speculum again and looked, something had shifted. I felt reconnection. Curiosity. Power. Sacrality. A quiet erotic aliveness. No one needed to see it. It was mine. That mirror was not for display. It was for knowing. And in that moment I understood that the deepest intimacy is not being looked at. It is looking. ✨️✨️✨️✨️✨️✨️✨️✨️✨️✨️✨️✨️✨️✨️✨️✨️✨️✨️✨️✨️✨️✨️✨️✨️✨️✨️✨️✨️✨️✨️✨️✨️✨️✨️✨️✨️✨️✨️✨️ I began noticing how the cervix changes throughout the cycle, how it rises, softens, responds. The body became my temple. The womb space, physical or energetic, carries the memory of boundaries, pleasure, fear, intuition. When you return to that territory, something reorganizes. Decisions become clearer. Boundaries become embodied. Intuition moves from abstraction into sensation. And that is when I understood who I was becoming. A woman who chooses pleasure as her compass. Pleasure as orientation. As criterion. As a measure of coherence. ✨️✨️✨️✨️✨️✨️✨️✨️✨️✨️✨️✨️✨️✨️✨️✨️✨️✨️✨️✨️✨️✨️✨️✨️✨️✨️✨️✨️✨️✨️✨️✨️✨️✨️✨️✨️✨️✨️✨️ A Simple Embodied Reflection Tonight, instead of looking at the Moon only as something above you, pause. Place one hand over your womb space. Close your eyes. Notice what is there. Maybe there is warmth. Maybe tension. Maybe nothing at all. Even numbness is a sensation. We are not here to judge. We are here to observe. Stay there for a few breaths. This is already connection. This is already return.