No Shame, all Connection. My Weekend in the Dutch Cuddle Puddle”

I just got back from Amsterdam, the land of bikes, brown cafés, and people who seem to have mastered the art of being totally unbothered. Within an hour of being there, I found myself thinking: this place has cracked the code. Everyone’s gorgeous, relaxed, cycling through the city at a slower pace in sensible shoes and unashamedly eating carbs. And more than that, there’s this invisible ease,like a collective exhale. You see naked bodies on posters, you can literally buy weed and lube within the same five-minute radius and no one bats an eyelid. Meanwhile, back in Britain, we’re still whispering “sex” like it’s a swear word and on Instagram you can’t even mention the word without getting banned and deleted.

And of course, in true “when in Rome” style, I went over for a 7 Vibes Party, which is basically a rave that got therapy and decided to evolve. Imagine a room full of people looking not just to dance, but to connect. It starts with meditation, yes, actual meditation, not just a group of hungover people sitting on the floor pretending, and then flows into dancing, chatting, holding hands, swapping stories, and more cuddling than you’d think possible without anyone making it weird. They even invite you to leave the friends you came with and go meet someone new.

It’s like the antidote to every British night out where everyone stands in circles pretending not to care. Here, people actually talk to each other. They’re friendly, warm, genuinely open, and I don’t mean “flirty open,” I mean emotionally available.

By the end of the night, I’d swapped Instagram handles, numbers, hugs, and at least four new life stories. It reminded me why I love the conscious community, they don’t shy away from connection. They don’t hide behind coolness. They lean in.

And as if that wasn’t enough embodiment for one weekend, I decided to round it off with a visit to Amsterdam’s most luxurious naked spa, clothing not optional, thank you very much. Picture the most well kept and luxurious facilities, whirlpools, saunas, steam rooms, Jacuzzis, and adults of every shape, age, and size just existing in their bodies like it’s the most natural thing in the world. Because it is. Of course I invited some new party friends to join.

We ended up making our own cuddle puddle and I must have been in there naked and wrapped in other naked bodies for hours. It was one the most intimate and nourishing moment in a long time and yet wholesome at the same time. I swear I was floating between laughter, conversation, and deep, wordless ease. Time stood still, we were present, held, and safe in each others energy.

No shame.

Shame is the quiet killer of authenticity. It keeps people locked in lives that look perfectly curated but feel hollow. It’s the voice that says, “If they really knew you, they’d leave.” It’s the freeze response that stops people asking for what they need, in bed, in friendship, in work. And it shows up everywhere: in the mum who feels guilty for wanting time away from her kids, in the high-achieving man who can’t admit he’s lonely, in the couple who stop touching because sex got awkward once and they never spoke about it again.

There’s something I adore about the Dutch mentality, that pragmatic honesty that says: humans do weird, messy, bodily, emotional things. Let’s talk about it instead of pretending we don’t. In the Netherlands, nudity isn’t scandalous, it’s normal. Kids grow up seeing it and don’t link “naked” with “bad.” Sex education isn’t about fear or morality, it’s about connection, consent, and pleasure. They actually talk about intimacy as something beautiful, respectful, and sometimes hilarious. Even with drugs, they don’t panic. They regulate. You want to smoke weed? Fine. Let’s just make sure you don’t fall in a canal or lose your shoes. The approach is always: people will do things anyway, so let’s make them safe and conscious.

It’s like they’ve integrated their shadow , they don’t exile the parts of life that make humans human. And when you do that, shame doesn’t get to run the show. In therapy rooms, people whisper “I’ve never told anyone this before…” like we’re about to open Pandora’s box and unleash the apocalypse. And what follows is usually something like: “Sometimes I fantasise about power play.” “My partner and I tried opening our relationship.” “Am I ok to feel like this?’

To which I usually say: “Welcome to being a human. You’re safe here.” Because my therapy space is a no-shame zone. You can talk about anything, your kinks, your secrets, your affairs, your guilt, your fantasies that make no logical sense,and I promise you, I won’t flinch. Not because I’m unshockable (though that helps), but because I genuinely believe that shame dissolves when we put language around it.

What I see in therapy is that people are living lives in boxes, doing everything except the real conversation that would free them. The Dutch don’t do that. They talk about it. They have a cultural pragmatism that normalises the human experience, sex, drugs, desire, jealousy, awkwardness, all of it, and in doing so, they make it lighter.

I feel this every time I go to Amsterdam and I ask myself how I can live life a little more “Dutch”What if we all tried to have less judgment, mainly for ourselves, more curiosity. Less secrecy, more conversation. Less performance, more presence.

In bed what about asking for not just what you want but how you want to feel

“I want to feel adored and held in the masculine/ feminine energy and I’d like you to tell me some words of safety, whilst massaging my back and pulling my hair” (My Fav, no blush!)

In my work i encourage my clients to connect with how they want to feel and live too. Whether it’s with individuals, couples, or clients exploring kink, ENM, infidelity, or rediscovering desire, my invitation is always the same: let’s talk about the thing you’ve never said out loud. Because the moment you say it, shame loses its grip. That’s where the real work, and the real freedom, begins.

So maybe we don’t all need to move to Amsterdam (though honestly, I wouldn’t say no). Maybe we just need to bring a bit more Dutch to our daily lives, in our therapy rooms, our bedrooms, and our dinner tables. Talk more. Judge less. Laugh often. And for the love of stroopwafels, stop being embarrassed about being human.

If you’re ready to have the conversations you’ve been avoiding, about sex, love, kink, betrayal, or desire, my therapy space is open to you. It’s shame-free, judgment-free, and entirely real. Book a session at www.jemmahardelle.com.

Thank you Amsterdam, I’ll be back sooner than you think.

❤️

Masks Off, cuddles on