Trigger warning: This article discusses topics of sexual trauma and sexual assault.
When Chakrubs was being first developed, I started with three stone variations: rose quartz, obsidian, and white jasper. At the time I received the first prototypes, I had been talking about it for almost a year – dreaming, scheming, researching. To finally hold in my hand what had only been a thought for so long was magical, and a little scary. I had been talking about this idea for so long, and many people had scoffed at me, disbelieving in the validity of the idea of using crystals for pleasure and spiritual awareness. When it was time for me to try my own creation, it was with the possibility that the nay-sayers could be right, that a year of visualizing what Chakrubs could be was wrong, and that it would all be chalked up to just another one of my “wild ideas” as my friends and family will tell you I have many of.
I was in New York when I received the first prototypes, visiting my grandmother’s house. I had recently made some major changes in my life, including breaking up with my boyfriend of six years, quitting my job teaching music and performing as a fairy princess for children’s birthday parties, and had moved to Santa Cruz where I was working on developing a radio station with a group of hippies in the Redwood forest (but was mainly hanging out, playing music, and starting a relationship with the owner of the house). It seemed I was bringing this newfound energy to New York with me through Chakrubs. California was my place for exploring this wild side of myself, while New York represented a place for contemplation and materializing the dreams that were conjured up in Cali.
At this point, my family did not know about my idea for Chakrubs. My family did not know the extent of the sexual trauma I had experienced with that boyfriend of six years. I am not sure I really even knew the extent of it. But I knew that I was developing a concept that was not only going to help me face what I needed to in order to get back to myself but that had the potential to help other people as well.
A large part of what caused me to disconnect from myself and my body during sex was due to the manner in which I lost my virginity. I wanted my first sexual experience to be special, with someone I loved and felt comfortable with. At the very least I wanted to consent to it happening.
After it happened I was in a bit of a shock. I made a conscious choice to turn my anger inwards and look for the positive – now I can have sex. I tried to fall in love with the man who assaulted me so that I could have some version of what I wanted from my first sexual experience. But for the six years after that, I became numb to having my body used and I subconsciously learned that pleasure was for my partner, not for me. I was praying that Chakrubs would help me heal these things.
My first experience with Chakrubs was a ceremonious one. It was an evening at my grandmother’s house while she was sleeping. Looking back on it, I now realize how important it was for me to reclaim my pleasure in this setting. Later I would understand the sexual trauma of my mother, my grandmother, my ancestors. I would begin to unravel the “Catholic guilt” and sexual shame that hid in plain sight with images and statues of the Virgin Mother all around us.
My grandmother was the first woman I knew who advocated being proud of your body. Having developed breasts at an early age, she was made fun of in school and would try to hide her chest by wrapping her arms around herself, creating a hunched back. Later on, she would battle with breast cancer and end up needing a mastectomy. She would always tell me and my sisters, “Be proud of your breasts!” and tell us to stick out our chests. Our mother carried this on, always making sure my sisters and I appreciated our physical beauty, with no disregard for our inner selves, but gushing at the sight of us and proudly saying, “I made you sexy girls!” My mother would explain to me how important it is for each generation to heal something leftover from the generation before them. I’m not sure if I understood this at the time, but reflecting on it, I see it now.
I chose the white jasper. It was a symbol of purity and I knew that was where I wanted to start on my healing journey. I was going to take my own virginity with a creation that I brought into the world, to reclaim my body and invite my lost soul to come back home. I thought for a moment what taking my own virginity would look like. Lighting candles came to mind but it felt too cliche. I made the choice not to alter the environment.
Instead, I placed importance on the connection I wanted to feel with myself. It didn’t matter what I was wearing or how romantic the atmosphere was. None of that mattered to me in the first place, what always mattered to me was how I felt. I wanted to feel in love the first time I had sex. What I actually felt was nervous, not only because I was going to insert a crystal into myself for the first time but because of how much seemed to weigh on this event. This was not only a symbolic act of taking my virginity, it was also going to determine whether or not this idea for Chakrubs would conceptualize. I was inseminating myself with the potential for something new, and it all depended on whether or not I was going to feel pleasure.
I did.
The nervousness morphed into excitement and that was enough of an energy match to bring about the love that I needed. Years of feeling numb led me to this moment of touching myself in the most intimate way – not only experiencing physical pleasure but penetrating layers of emotions that I had longed for so long. I did not orgasm the first time I used a Chakrub, but I got a glimpse of all that was possible. The white jasper shined a light on my entire being, showing me just how many places there are inside of me to explore, physically and emotionally. It was as if I was walking into a part of my house I had abandoned for years because I was afraid of what may be lurking there. The white jasper Chakrub brought fresh air and sunlight to rooms that had previously been boarded up. I saw that my house needed some work, some care, but it looked different in the light – it wasn’t as scary. It was beautiful, actually. It had been partially taken over with weeds that seeped in from the outside, it had dust that shimmered under the sunlight, bunnies and other wildlife finding shelter there. It was beautiful as is, and it was mine to clean up.
Crystals work differently for different people, and different crystals work in different ways.
This metaphor came to me through mental images while I had the Chakrub inserted. It wasn’t as if I was completely transported into another realm, it was a simple visual in my mind just like a dream, that I followed. Some people may wonder if it was really the crystal that was igniting that or if it was my imagination. The answer is that it doesn’t matter because one isn’t more profound than the other.
This private moment that I had with myself was meaningful simply because I felt it had meaning. I was able to feel like this had meaning because I was acknowledging the potency of the event, and leaving myself open to my own interpretations about it. This is oftentimes all crystal healing is. It is leaving yourself open to shifting your ideas and the story about yourself. Those ideas are energy just like everything else. No matter what manifests in your crystal healing session you are actively shifting, conjuring, and acknowledging energy.
The white jasper Chakrub, (which we now call Rabbit Jade) will always be special to me because of that first experience. I’ve always imagined it would be the Chakrub that mothers could give their daughters to open up conversations about sex and pleasure. I’ve always thought about how special it would be to have a keepsake from the first time you explored yourself (since Chakrubs last a lifetime). Even now, I call on white jasper to help me shine a nurturing light on situations where I need to see more potential in myself. I invite you to explore this stone and find your own meaning in it. It means the world to me to hear from our community about how Chakrubs affect them. If you feel called to do so I would love for you to share your stories with us so we can continue to normalize this kind of self-care and discovery.
Written by Vanessa Cuccia, founder of Chakrubs. Originally posted on The Freque by Chakrubs