The Goddess in me longs to be witnessed, to drop the masks, while the Humanity runs for cover, carrying equal parts not-enoughness and too-muchness.
A voice inside cries "Somebody, please! Witness in devotion and reverence as the Goddess pours forth through this body! She is messy, primal, delving into the muck, teasing, tantalizing, then turning it all up to God, dying to Him, as he pulses electric current through her magic manifestation, together they create infinite prismatic ripples in the Multiverse."
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Who can hold all of me so I can surrender my ass and my heart? I'm endlessly grateful for those safe spaces that have allowed me to die to myself. .
How often I cover it up, dull it down, play it small so as not to disrupt. Suffocating the life out of myself while grappling for safety. There is so much fear to just be free. To break out of this cage of conditioning. I see it all day long in the most mundane actions from the way I walk, eat, hold my lips, touch myself in public. It is so staid. 👄
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"I'm too much. They can't handle it." This is not only my story. It is an ancient one. As women, we have been degraded by society because they feared our immense power. Let us not forget that the witches were burned for much less only 3 centuries ago.
Now it is up to us. Time to reclaim our worth. Time to dance like we don't give a funk. Not a dance of seduction. Not a dance of delicate beauty. Though it contains all of that. Just a real pure authentic dance of Devotion to all of Life. The beautiful mess that is both Sacred & Primal. The dance of the Holy Fuck.
Thank you to our foremothers who loosened the shackles. May I not be complacent with my privilege but keep pressing forward.
