I Wrote This for Moms. But Maybe It Was Always for You
On composting old ideas, finding the right audience, and reclaiming the truth about sex and connection
Years ago, I sat down to write what I thought was the beginning of something big.
I was deep in parenting mode. Deep in sex education mode. Trying to make sense of why so many smart, thoughtful, well-intentioned women—including myself—felt so shy, quiet, disempowered, or just plain confused about sex.
I thought I was writing to moms.
Moms like me.
Moms who wanted to raise kids with healthier, clearer, more conscious messages around sexuality.
Moms who got the shame-based, awkward, incomplete “sex talk” and didn’t want to pass it down.
I imagined calling the work something like:
The Science of Sexuality for Smart Mamas
And by “smart,” I didn’t mean book-smart. I meant the kind of smart that lives in your gut. The wisdom of intuition. The part of you that knows when something’s off, even if you can’t name it yet.
And by “mama,” I didn’t just mean mothers with children. I meant creators. Visionaries. People who birth ideas, nurture people, tend to growth—whether or not a child ever came out of their body.
I loved the concept. Still do, honestly.
But as time passed, something felt off.
The moms weren’t finding me.
Or if they were, they were whispering their appreciation. Quietly. Privately.
But the louder messages came from other places—
Men wanting to be friends.
Men wanting me to watch them.
People who missed the point entirely.
And I started to wonder:
Maybe this wasn’t about moms at all.
Maybe that was just my first attempt at naming the real thing.
The Real Thing Is This:
There is a common enemy.
It’s not people.
It’s a pattern.
A set of cultural messages and inherited beliefs.
👀 Fear-based sex ed
🫢 Silence from the people who raised us
🧠 Binary, outdated ideas about gender and desire
😞 Shame passed down like a family heirloom
😡 Disconnection dressed up as “normal”
😬 An overly sexualized culture that still refuses to teach what sex actually is
And we absorbed all of it.
Even the smartest among us.
Even the most “progressive.”
Even those of us who thought we’d grown out of it.
And now we’re here, trying to build intimacy, communicate with partners, raise good humans, or just feel whole in a body and a life that was shaped by those messages.
So… what now?
This Isn’t a How-To. It’s a Reckoning.
The people I’m writing to now?
You’re not just moms.
You might not even be moms.
You’re the ones who:
Want stronger relationships
Want better sex but not performative, copycat, media-mirrored sex. Real sex. Connected sex. Sex that honors your body, your pace, your truth.
Are curious about what you never got to learn
Have an inkling that there’s more to intimacy than what you’ve been taught
Maybe even feel a little ashamed that you don’t already know
Are tired of tiptoeing around what’s real
Are ready to explore, even if it’s messy
You might be a woman. Or not.
You might be partnered. Or not.
You might have kids. Or not.
Doesn’t matter.
What matters is that you’re done being handed shame in place of knowledge.
You’re done feeling like sexuality has to be confusing, embarrassing, or out of reach.
I’m Reclaiming Too.
I’m not writing this from a mountaintop.
I’m writing this from the middle.
My writing has changed. My clients have changed.
I have changed.
The work I do now goes beyond sex ed.
It’s about connection.
To self.
To others.
To your body.
To your freedom.
This old note I wrote about “smart mamas” isn’t wrong. It just wasn’t complete.
It was a stepping stone.
And I’m sharing it now as a reminder to myself (and maybe to you):
We don’t have to throw out old ideas.
We can compost them.
Let them break down.
Let them feed the new stories we’re writing.
Let them point to the truth that was always underneath.
If this resonates…
If you’re reading this and thinking:
“Oof. This is me.”
“I didn’t know I could talk about this out loud.”
“I want to learn what I was never taught.”
“I want to stop feeling broken or behind.”
“I want to connect more deeply—with myself and with the people I love.”
You’re in the right place.
You don’t have to know exactly what you want yet.
You just have to want more than what you were handed.
Let’s go there.
Lanae
aka The MamaSutra
P.S. Tell me who you are.
P.S. I’d love to know who’s here.
Are you a parent, a seeker, a late bloomer? A bodyworker? A quiet rebel?
If something in this post made you pause, nod, or exhale—drop a comment or reply to this email.
I’d love to know who I’m writing to—and it’s always better when we’re in conversation, not just broadcast.