I love being a woman. I love everything about it. The foul moods, the shimmering glee, the curves, and bumps, and soft skin… The enormous, ever changing heart. Round, grounded, fertile, arid, wet, unpredictable, and peaked we, like Mother Earth,…
When I became a mother, I was so humbled at the enormity of it all that I wanted to throw myself at my mother’s feet and beg her forgiveness for every asinine, bitchy, teen tantrum that I threw; I vowed to begin a new religion based on mother worship (enter S Factor!)⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
I was never so tired, so sad, so lonely, so stir crazy, so frustrated with the endless crying. It was a lesson in instant humility… but then…
If you believe in the study of your mind, then you must believe in the study of your body. It is all so deeply linked.Stress, for example, isn’t just an overall feeling of your brain being overstimulated or overwhelmed with thoughts and to do’s. Stress affects the body with a quickened heart rate, quickened breath, tighter muscles, higher blood pressure, and high alert senses. When we bring words into the body-mind equation, things get even more complex.⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀Did you know that when you speak negatively to yourself – either in your mind or out loud – that you develop more anxiety overall – body sensations of buzzing, breathlessness, shaking and tension arise.⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
Another study found that if you think positive thoughts and words, you stimulate your frontal lobe which influences your motor cortex (the center that controls your actions) and can propel you into pleasurable physical action – like going on that hike you’ve been dreaming about or running yourself the bath you’ve been craving all day.⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
The spirit of a wild woman rumbles inside each of us. It needs to be there. And it needs to be heard.
To connect us to the primal side of life, that side of life that is driven by passion and instinct and verve.
When you lose your center, you lose
your lust for life, you lose your wolven self. And all that would be left is an empty domesticated creature looking out from behind a dingy window. Pining.
This wild-ass woman sometimes has got to go and feel the edge of life on the brink of the world.
I’m taking off tomorrow…
I asked my friend what the word “feminine” meant to her. She scrunched up her nose as if smelling something putrid and said, “delicate, dainty you know… Effeminate.”⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
I looked up “effeminate” on the internet – “effeminacy is the manifestation of traits in a boy or man that are more often associated with feminine nature, behavior, mannerism, style, or gender roles rather than with masculine nature, behavior, mannerisms, style or roles. It is typically used implying criticism or ridicule of this behavior.”⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
There it is. That last sentence, on Wikipedia no less – “it is typically used implying criticism or ridicule of this behavior.” Effeminate, and the other words we use to express feminine qualities is a word that desperately needs rescuing from a culture that has a wickedly disturbing relationship to all things feminine.
I am Queen.⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
I deserve all the riches this life has to offer me. I fill myself up first and let the abundance of my life overflow into the lives of those around me. I buzz and hum and radiate with abandon.
Think about it. The Queen or the maid? Which are you? Which do you choose? Because it is a choice. Which do you really want to be? Which do you think you deserve?