Our Origin Story
The Yoni Ring
shapes of gender and identity
Triangles and Circles are my favorite shapes. Found in the iconography of ancient peoples, mathematics, architecture, and nature, these shapes help guide us both visually and viscerally to the forms and cycles of the earth.
The Circle ring was the first I ever fabricated and it makes sense when considering why: Circles are intuitive shapes. In nature, the longer physical mass persists the more prone it is to becoming circular or spherical in form. Its importance is also reflected in the many scientific applications where circles are used to model physical phenomena. They are our first approximation to the orbits of planets, the movement of electrons in an atom, and the shapes of cyclones and galaxies. Circles represent inclusivity, cycles, infinity, repetition, and community. Looking closely, the lessons in the symbolism of this shape are deeply meaningful.
Triangles have their own brand of magic that is instinctually attractive. There is an entire mathematical discipline (Trigonometry) devoted to utilizing angles to help us calculate distances between Earth, other planets, and stars. Paleo-archaeologists and historians have also found that the inverted triangle (known as the “pubic triangle”) is an ancient symbol in terms of human anthropology, as it is one of the oldest forms of divinity that has ever been discovered. It is sacred in many cultural and religious contexts, and tied to the Sanskrit word Yoni (meaning ‘womb’, and ‘source’—though the symbol predates Indic peoples and languages). In these contexts it represents the origin; a powerful place of generation or creation.
The Yoni ring (pictured above) was the second shape I ever crafted, and the first that felt like it had some philanthropic potential. It blends both shapes of circle and triangle, representing the home of a person’s energetic power and the totality of the masculine-feminine spectrum. The power that comes from this space of the body is not contingent on physical body parts, patriarchal norms, or binary gender concepts.
These two shapes became extremely important to me in 2017 while defending my body from the onset of squamous cell cervical cancer. At the time I was an apprentice participating in an herbalism and goddess studies program administered through Rio Cosmico. During that apprenticeship I was surrounded entirely by people who identify as women, which presented unique challenges. This non-traditional wisdom had never been available in educational institutions I had access to growing up in Las Vegas, and it was initially very foreign. From the pragmatic to the esoteric, we learned novel information about the power of femininity and how that power had been denigrated, maligned, and shamed over time. Through teachers like Vienna (The Cuntsultant), we were taught where we had been misinformed historically, and we gained practical knowledge about menstruation, fertility, and reproductive rights. Still, I very much struggled to feel complete. I overcompensated and was still extremely critical of myself—always comparing my performance to others. Ironically, this was also when my personal gender journey began to take new shape. Being surrounded by empowered people who identify as women enabled new freedom in my own expressions of femininity. I stopped wearing makeup and shaving my body hair. I made room for the many masculine parts of my identity that had been repressed since childhood. I came out to my parents, and close friends. I began exploring group healing within various wisdom traditions, began practicing meditation via Sri Vidya and Kaula Tantra, and began creating my own plant medicines. Having a combination of practical knowledge, embodied wisdom, and a stronger sense of identity subsequently bolstered my voice and bred the volition I would need in navigating the western healthcare industry and its many imposed norms on individuals concerning their own reproductive health.
Even armed with a multidisciplinary approach, a strong social network, and newly cultivated courage, I encountered excessive difficulty. I was up against extremely strong voices that cautioned any delay of surgery very seriously, defensively judging my desire to ask questions, frequently interrupting and shutting me down, and literally threatening me with death. “This is Cancer we are talking about!” I was told by one of my physicians when telling him I was still exploring options. It was my first time in the healthcare realm since childhood, and I was sufficiently overwhelmed. I didn’t buy the urgency and was turned off by doctors altogether for awhile. I was also in grad school at the time, managing too much between assignments, my mental healthcare, and the apprenticeship, so I backed off to do more research. My instinct knew that hysterectomy was a last resort and not my only option. All research I’d found consisted of other, less invasive solutions. Despite the pressure, I took the time to figure out a better course of action.
Trusting the advice and power within my own body led me to following the plants, and with financial support from family I underwent a series of Escharotic treatments in Los Angeles (topical ablation using plant-derived abrasives) in the summer of 2018. I was working at a non-profit in the autism community at the time and used my sick pay to travel during treatment weekends, staying with friends in California to save on lodging. I traveled for several consecutive months while managing treatments, supplement protocols, a full-time job, graduate school, research, and an herbalism apprenticeship alongside. It was a grinding year. In the fall of that year after learning that the escharotic treatments were only partially effective was the first real time I became frightened. One of my closest friends had received a late stage breast cancer diagnosis at this time as well (read about Mandy and her experience with somatic and healing work on her website), which contributed to the dense and deep fear that had settled in. After going back to the drawing board and doing more research, I found an empowered female oncologist in my hometown that specialized in reproductive surgery and treatment (Dr. Lynn Kowalski, who wrote the book “Not Your Mother’s Hysterectomy”).
It was a complete turnaround from the experience with the two general practitioners in my network. I began to feel less pressure when allowed to ask questions and take my time interpreting answers. I received higher quality intake services and was consulted as an active participant in my health decisions, getting guidance and information as opposed to unsubstantiated demands and opinionated guilt trips. I was given multiple options that did not involve the complete removal of my reproductive organs, or even my entire cervix. I stopped recording all of my doctors visits because I felt safe again.
My Escharotic treatments reduced the grade of dysplasia, and I was able to avoid hysterectomy but did have my final surgery with Dr. Kowalski in December of 2018 to remove the existing disease, rule out deeper sourced and different types of malignancy, and to increase my odds of becoming HPV immune. Both my ND and conventional surgeon were kind, compassionate, experienced, and knowledgeable throughout the entirety of my treatments, surgeries, and recovery. I had my first normal pap in my life six months after my last surgery, spent all of 2019 healing with the support of my family and friends, and successfully launched my business that year.
My body and endocrine system are in healthful balance, and the option for children is still on the table (though this was not a deciding factor for me). I mention it because unfortunately, pulling the “I still want children” card seemed to effectively deter judgement about my decisions. It is a disturbing experiential fact that people’s bodies (especially people who identify as women) are objectified, valued, and marketed on the basis of sex, extraction, procreation, and genetic viability.
Still, I crossed the threshold into 2019 with no more doctors, no more surgery, and no cancer.
These shapes are deeply embodied in all of us, and exist in all of our surroundings. They carry significant medicinal value after an experience in navigating a healthcare system that is skewed against gender and sexual sovereignty. The Yoni ring contains both shapes, and so does the Full Desert Weirdo logo (mindfully created by my friend Tom Miller: @futuristiclieutenant). I ended up making twenty yoni rings for my peers in the herbalism program for our final project. It symbolizes protection now, like a wearable shield. It is a form that exemplifies how a person’s voice and volition come from within, and are often the best tools we have.
After the inception of this design others followed that were specific to reproductive sovereignty and gender-based violence, like the LABELS series. May you feel empowered by any Full Desert Weirdo designs that center the mutable nature of gender and being an advocate for your own powerfully dynamic human body.