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Shamed Wild Woman

Shamed Wild Woman

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A woman should not be drunk in public
A woman should not be loud
A woman should not speak her mind
A woman should never interrupt a man.
A woman should always put her man’s needs above her own, especially in the bedroom.
A woman should keep a clean house
All household duties are the woman’s responsibility
A woman should take exceptional care of her physical appearance and always be looking her best.
A woman’s body should be slender and fit but not too muscular. Curvy, but not overweight. Especially in her ass. No one likes a fat ass on a woman.
A woman’s breasts should be firm and perky. They should basically look fake but still feel real.
A woman is the primary caretaker of the children and their needs. If a man works hard it is her responsibility to have dinner on the table when he gets home from work.
A woman should wear dresses and makeup and present herself well, always desirable to a man.
A woman should be sexually adventurous but not a slut.
A woman should be compliant and obedient to a man.
A woman should be submissive and gentle.
A woman should be pliable.
A woman should be silent.

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All I feel is grief for my shamed wild woman.

Grier for all the ‘A woman should/should not’s’ that have been spat at us throughout our lifetimes and our matriarchal ancestors lifetimes.
So much has been tarnished and stripped away from women due to the power hungry patriarchy.

All I feel is grief for my shamed wild woman.
Shamed, contained, constrained, restrained.
Feared, attacked, slandered, slaughtered.

All I feel is grief for my shamed wild woman.
As I pour over this list of indoctrinated beliefs I have heard, been exposed to, picked up or even said.
These antiquated, outdated beliefs that have been injected into culture and society like venom. Infecting us all with fear and untruths like a virus.

Our beautifully strong divine feminine power has been stripped from us as women are stripped, and beaten and bruised and repressed.
For being boundless, bountiful holders of wisdom.
So fearful were the patriarch of witches and their divine knowing, they painted us with evil, tarnished everything that makes a woman so, with their egotistical power hungry brushes. Leaving us scrawling and crawling and grasping for our own blood.
Our matriarch before us were burned at the stake for using their intuitive wisdom and so we became intrinsically fearful of the one thing that can lead us to healing. Following and trusting our internal guidance.
Because what can they do if we honour our own intuition.
What could they do if we rose and screamed “NO!”
“This is my body. I am sovereign. You have no control over me. No influence. No say.”

They slut shame, and harass, they abuse, they rape, they murder, they dismiss. They taunt, and they dismantle.
They have been doing it for so long that they have even managed to infiltrate the sisterhood, turning women against women tearing them down, siding them against one another.
All because they have seen what happens when women gather, when we share our truths and blood and shame.. In healing our shame and rising together, we become stronger.

So yes my wild woman is grieving but she is also raging.
Raging that they have blanketed our fierceness for so long.
Raging that we have forgotten our lineage and therefore forgotten our sacred feminine roots.
Raging that they keep pushing with their toxic masculinity, raping and pillaging the Earth just as they do their women.
Raging that something as creative as the womb has been spat upon in disgust.
Raging that they continue to silence us.
Raging that we have listened when they have called us hysterical, unruly, deranged, mad.

I will show you madness.

Madness when I break down these walls you have built with one sharp sentence.
Madness when I embrace my bleeding and marinate in its infinite wisdom.
Madness when you throw the word slut at me and I laugh because all I hear now is the weak, manipulative, frightened little ego behind those words.
Madness because when I rise and saunter in my womanhood, the toxic of you cower and cry in your victim hood.

I will no longer bow.
I will no longer bend.
I will no longer submit.
I will no longer tend.

Patriarchy you have shown us how you wield your power. It is aggressive, segregative, confrontational, racist, bigotry, fearful, barbaric toxicity.
And we have had enough.

The feminine is rising.
It is time for a power of compassion, inclusion, empathy, understanding, openness, forgiveness, community, and unity.

We break the walls you have built and put out the fires that are blazing.
We take away your guns and mend the holes you have torn in all our hearts.
We raise the downtrodden and weak and heal the mess you have created.

And we do it together as one.

Rise Woman, Rise.

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