About Yael Wolfe

Or at least I’m trying to be…

Copyright Yael Wolfe

Hello and welcome to my magical little forest. I’m so glad to have you join me.

About Me

My name is Yael and in my forties, I’m finally trying to unearth the wild wolf that lives within me. Like a good little girl, I hid her away most of my life, trying so hard to follow conventional paths.

But those efforts got me nowhere. Just before I turned 40, the man that I thought was my life partner left me for a woman half my age. My entire world crumbled in just one moment.

Though many people might consider that a terrible…


I refuse to continue affirming that I’m not worthy just as I am right now

Photo by Alina Vilchenko from Pexels

I’ve decided to do something radical: I will no longer be working to improve myself.

No more endlessly trying to cut out sugar so that maybe I’ll finally lose this chub around my middle. No more self-help books. No more constantly analyzing the circumstances, decisions, and struggles in my life to determine where I fucked up and how I can stop fucking up.

I’m done. I’ve had enough.

I am about to turn 45, and after a lifetime of diligent effort to improve myself, I still have not achieved most of the things I so long for. …


I want to be an empowered woman, but taking a chance on sex has left me feeling ashamed and heartbroken

Photo by Ava Sol on Unsplash

Something happened that I didn’t expect would happen when I hit my forties: I wanted to become a little bit more of a slut.

First of all, let me emphasize here that I use the word slut because I’m one of those women who finds empowerment in it. In general, I define a slut as someone who pursues her own sexual fulfillment without hesitation — in the context of her choosing. That doesn’t mean she necessarily has a lot of partners, mind you, which is the traditional definition of the word. …


I think I owe her an apology

Copyright Yael Wolfe

Dear Vagina,

Oh, and vulva. This concerns you, too. Let me start again:

Dear Vagina and Vulva,

Yes, I just wrote that. It feels a little weird and also entirely necessary. Clearly, we haven’t talked much, and we got into a bit of a mess recently. I think we need to do a better job of getting on the same page here.

Can we start with a better way to address you? I mean, I know you’re two different parts, the specific two who are seemingly throwing a tantrum down there, so I want to be clear, respectful, and specific, but also, in many ways, you…


And we can’t even see it

Photo by Sam Manns on Unsplash

I shaved my legs before having sex recently. There. I admit it.

No one will care that I just said this. All the open-minded women here will support me in making this decision because it’s my body and my choice. (Thank you.)

But the thing is: I didn’t shave my legs because it was “my choice.” I mean, yes, I chose to pick up that razor and go to town on those hairy calves, but the reason I chose to shave is I’ve been made to feel ashamed of my legs when I don’t shave.

I have never “worn them…


A snapshot of the everyday aggression women have to endure

Photo by Andrea Piacquadio from Pexels

“Good morning!” I waved to the man near the side of the road as I walked by. He looked to be in his mid-70s and was wearing a flannel shirt, jeans, and a baseball cap — pretty typical rancher gear out here.

“Wow, you’re walking fast,” he commented.

It was nearly noon and I was just finishing my daily walk along a beautiful, deserted country road behind my house. I didn’t think I was particularly fast that day, as tired as I was, but I went along with it and told him I was trying to keep my heart rate…


The lessons that come with this work are hard and unforgiving…but I wouldn’t trade it for anything

Photo by cottonbro from Pexels

Two summers ago, about six months into my freelance career, I was in a financial freefall. I couldn’t figure out what to do and was spending 50 hours a week writing pitches that went lost or ignored. I’d spent my career in the education and nonprofit sector, despite my interest in writing and photography, and without a portfolio of published articles and those all-important connections, I had nothing to help me get a foot in the door.

I knew I had to pivot, and pivot fast, but I didn’t know how. Traditional options were just not working.

One day that…


Is it possible to fairly divvy up the responsibility? Or does that even matter?

Photo by Keira Burton from Pexels

When my ex walked away from our 7-year relationship, I was convinced it was my fault. In fact, I happily took full responsibility for everything. And I mean everything.

It seemed entirely reasonable. I’ve always noticed that there’s a point in a relationship where both people decide to move forward. That point where things are forever changed, regardless of how everything turns out. That point where you are no longer friends or acquaintances, but two people exploring sex or love or both.

When I distill a relationship back down to that moment, I always find that there’s no other option…


At 44, I still feel like a foolish college girl when it comes to love and sex

Photo by Ivan Samkov from Pexels

“So what brings you back so soon?”

I squirm in my seat. My legs are crossed. I can feel the unforgiving fabric of my jeans cutting into my vulva. “I am… I’m burning down there. It’s like someone poured acid down my pants.” My face is so hot, I feel like I’m going to pass out.

How am I supposed to say, “I’ve got herpes”?

“Any itching?”

Itching? Jesus. Yes. Of course. I can’t sleep at night. Between the burning and itching, I feel like my vagina and vulva are slowly trying to kill me.

“Yes,” I say. “It’s not…


Even my imagination has been programed to focus on the male sexual experience — and I don’t know what to do about it

Photo by Bruce Christianson on Unsplash

During a recent sexual encounter, I noticed that when I became anxious about how long it was taking me to reach orgasm (a long-standing problem for me, regardless of how patient a lover appears to be), I started mentally reaching for one of my go-to, get-me-off-right-now fantasies: my taboo stepfather fantasy.

Instead of climbing toward a climax, I suddenly got lost in a trail of critical thoughts, wondering why I was playing out this well-worn fantasy yet again when I had such an enjoyable experience right there in front of me. Granted, it has always been challenging for me to…

Yael Wolfe

I just want to be a big, bad wolf. | Newsletter: http://eepurl.com/gleDcD | Email: welcome@yaelwolfe.com

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