Divine Femininity, The True Hero

Dear Wounded Mother

Thank you,

You have endured more than you can carry. Lifting me high into your horizons with arms so nurturing, only to drop me right back to reality, to the world that frightens my core and contracts every muscle at the thought of losing you.

I look to my Mother in her physical being, she is strong and absent from the present. Living in survival, only to notice me when there is a need, not because she wants to shower me with her love and wisdom, but the natural instinct to take care of me. My Mother, one step ahead of every misstep, leaning into intuition only for the tribulations that are to come. Ready to protect me from this world.

Never once acknowledging my worries and desires, my wants and dreams- listening only to silence me. Feeling lost in my femininity, I stay quiet, observing what life has to offer through her eyes.

My Hero, the woman who birthed me, carries this title not by choice but by necessity. I need her to be my hero because if not her, then who? Who else knows the burden of being a woman, or to be raised as one? My Wounded Mother within me starts to awaken, to heal, to embrace this hero I call my mother.

My mother who reminded me of my strength, to embody the Divine Masculine energy that lies within me, a defense mechanism to survive in this world we've created. Strong, I need to be strong.

I focused on achieving the goals of another, to breathe in my resilience because I don't need to be a man to endure the vastness of this earth. I will survive, I have been surviving.

I began to Acknowledge that everyone around me has turned into an enemy, I'm lost in this competitive nature I adopted, parts of me begin to feel foreign. Out of touch with reality, out of mind of my own existence.

I was getting through my remainder of life with intellect and decisive action but at some point I thought to myself, "who's choices am I making?"

I felt lost, removed from my senses, no longer cognizant of who I am.

My Wounded Mother I call out to you for help.

I look to you Wounded Mother, and you smile a very faint smile. Pointing me in the direction of expression and creativity. To ground myself in my Being, that is capacious and abundant that getting lost in it seems to be the only way. You remind me, to be still, to love, to create, what more could I ask for?

Oh Wounded Mother, I underestimated your strength. I have neglected to heal you when I was just a child. Now easing in my vulnerability, trusting in myself, something you impel boldly throughout my life, advising me to melt into this feeling that I hold dearly, but deprive of the life that it deserves.

How could I have known any better? What examples do I have? Because of all the scars and pain, I was able to feel the world around me. Empathy became second nature, my intuition growing stronger by the years. Preserving the duality that I now carry closely, something I never thought would be possible. Holding onto my strength while nurturing my fears, Expressing my love for the world while grounding myself in reality. Duality.

Wounded Mother who's found a home inside of me, thank you for healing and continuing to heal. Coming into this world with the perspective that you've presented me wouldn't have gotten me this far. I continue this journey, in hopes of completing your healing process. To my Hero,

Thank you.