Exploring My Journey with the Divine Feminine
What is your relationship with the divine feminine, and how has your embodiment of it evolved over time?
This question is both intimate and expansive—its roots reaching deeply into my personal history and still shaping the work I do today. To answer, I cannot help but trace my steps back to a younger version of myself who, unknowingly, was already committed to bringing the feminine into full expression—through this body and through this life.
I was just a child, no older than four, and even then, I had thoughts that felt too large for such a small person. One of these thoughts stood out—a bold declaration: I will be in my power, but I will be in my power like a woman. At the time, I did not know what that meant. I carried it with me like a small seed, tucked away, waiting to grow.
But life is rarely linear, and my relationship with the feminine grew complicated. I was raised in a world that taught me—through words, actions, and omissions—that femininity was something to diminish. I learned that it was both frightening to others and, at times, dangerous for me to express. Regardless of how severe, the message was clear: being female was not a strength. As a result, I entered adulthood with a deep, unconscious belief that my power had to mirror the masculine to be valid.
I did it all. I prided myself on my independence, my competence, my ability to carry every burden alone. I minimized my femininity, often without realizing it. I muted my actual voice, ignored my beauty, and approached life with a masculine intensity that left little room for softness. At the time, I believed I was embodying strength.
But strength, I have learned, can look many ways.
As I grew, I began to question this belief. Small moments chipped away at the limitations I had built into my way of being. I experimented with aspects of femininity—its various forms, expressions, and energies. I noticed how the world shifted in response to these experiments. When I embodied softness, some welcomed it while others sneered. When I carried fierceness, I felt both celebrated and rejected. I studied for years, looking deeply into the undercurrents that play out in so many seemingly simple interactions.
This experimentation taught me something vital: the divine feminine is not a single thing. It is a spectrum, a kaleidoscope of identities and energies—each valid, each beautiful. It is the warrior and the nurturer, the fierce and the soft. It is changeable and complex, an ever-shifting dance between grace and power. In fact, if it is anything, it is many things, and oversimplification is perhaps one of its greatest injustices.
Understanding this transformed the way I saw myself and other women.
Where I once judged or envied, I began to see beauty. I noticed the societal conditioning that pits women against one another, and I committed myself to unlearning it. I realized the importance of creating spaces where women can support and celebrate each other—where we can heal the wounds of competition, jealousy, and judgment. It is constant and regular work, as these patterns run deep, but conscious attention to healing supports new opportunities for all of us.
My relationship with the divine feminine and how I bring it into expression in this world continues to evolve. I have reclaimed parts of myself I once denied and staked a claim for the marvelous complexity of the feminine to have a place—at least in my own world. I honor my fierceness and hold my vulnerability with deep respect, but I also learn each day how to do this better and to embrace the ever-new and beautiful aspects of my being.
I use many tools—jewelry, clothing, flowers, the cultivation of my environment—to nurture these aspects of myself. They remind me of the beauty in all forms of femininity and the importance of weaving them into my life. This is not just personal—or superficial; it is a practice of bringing more of the divine feminine into the world. I consider it an art, one that deserves more attention and reverence.
But healing the feminine goes far deeper. It is not as simple as placing flowers on a table or ensuring your hair is done (though I wish it were). There is profound soul work required. While I once believed that change would come if men shifted or societal structures evolved, I now understand that women themselves must lead this transformation. It requires us to dive deeply into our own stories, confront the conditioning that has shaped us and that we ourselves have perpetrated, and make courageous choices to live in alignment with the divine feminine energies we are uniquely able to express.
This is an invitation—a call to step forward. Women, we must reclaim the fragmented pieces of our feminine selves and come together to restore balance in the world. It begins within: in how we honor our beauty, our power, our softness, and our strength. But it does not stop there. We must actively support one another, breaking the cycles of competition and comparison to create a collective force of empowered feminine energy.