My disconnect happened about one year after I gave birth to my beautiful little girl. Things were wonderful - I was a mom, a wife, I had friends and family who were consumed by my growing daughter and her repertoire of words and emotions, as she was approaching her terrible twos. My life was everything a woman could want, yet there was starting to disappear - the spark, the passion, the excitement. Something was missing. I was missing.
Somewhere in the midst of messy feedings, diaper changes and the same, predictable routine, I lost myself and my appetite for life. Every day became a herculean task. Getting out of bed was hard, falling asleep was hard, things that used to give me pleasure and joy, became chores. I no longer enjoyed cooking, eating, my libido became almost non existent and there was simply nothing that really interested me outside of my daughter.
I would often sit and think of the life I once had. Before becoming a mom, I was career woman with a promising job in Toronto’s media industry. My life was busy, but stimulating and exhilarating. I met new people every single day, I attended events and parties, and I was stimulated by my craft. I had this insatiable appetite for life, for food, for literature, for pleasure and learning. But here I was now, completely depleted, exhausted and… get this! I was also being judged! I reached out to a couple of people whom I truly trusted, only to realize that they did not understand what I was going through at all. Not only that! They judged me. Someone said to me, “What do you mean you think you are depressed? You are at home, with your child! How can you not enjoy that?!”
I spent months and months in this zombie-like state - joyless, tired, even unable to take my bruised ass to a therapist’s office. One day, I had a grand meltdown. I asked my husband to take my little girl to his mother’s home and I spent the entire day on my own. I went to a coffee shop and started to write. There was something very therapeutic about putting a pen to a paper and just writing. So I started to write every single day. It was a story about an ordinary woman who goes through a messy identity crisis after becoming a mom. I named the heroine Sandrine, which is also my daughter’s name. And as I was writing, I slowly started to reconnect with my sensuality. I had this desire to write. I would write till 3AM, sometimes on the subway (on my way to this part-time gig that I got, just to get myself out of the house). Through my character, I got reacquainted with my own sexuality, pleasure, and my desire to create. 8 months later, I published “THE STOPOVER: One Woman’s Story of Desire, Inner Turmoil and Forbidden Adventures”. By the time, the book came out, I was almost back to my old self. Except that this time, I was even more fearless, more accomplished, more hungry to live my life with my new partner in crime - my daughter.
Since then, I have been committed to helping people reconnect with their sensuality and lead them to the world of pleasure, self-empowerment and bold, happy, unreserved, authentic, succulent lives. I have done TV appearances, speaking engagements, taught classes, have written articles and recorded podcasts on the topic of pleasure and sensuality. But my true passion is working with people, one-on-one and taking them on their journey to re-discovery (sometimes, discovery) of their sensuality, pleasure and true, untamed passion.