August 08, 2017


When I first heard “divine feminine” several years ago, it was a difficult term for me to connect with. Don’t get me wrong—I wanted to. The whole idea of emanating goddess vibes, getting in sync with the rhythms of nature, radiating a sense of confidence and power and timeless beauty…I mean, who wouldn’t want that? But, in my reality, there was nothing all that divine about being a woman. 

Being a woman felt more like putting myself through a sausage grinder every day and hoping that someone would look at the end result and say, “Hey, that looks pretty tasty!”

In truth, most of the joy in my life came to me when I was able to forget that I was a woman. In other words, when I was alone. When I didn’t have to worry about people looking at me, sizing me up, and deciding whether I deserved a thumbs up or a thumbs down. Or, when I didn’t have to think about whether the unexpected humidity in the air was going to breathe life back into my untamable, curly hair, after I’d spent all morning beating it into submission with a flat iron. Or, when I didn’t have to worry about wardrobe malfunctions, or keeping my stomach sucked in, or whether or not I’d used the correct amount of concealer to hide the eruption of acne that was caused by wearing too much concealer. Or whether my yoga pants were sporty, or sexy, or slutty, as everyone seemed to have a different opinion. Or, if the number of calories I consumed exceeded the number of calories burned. Or, what exactly the fucking asshole at Starbucks meant when he called me “ma’am”.

But, when I was alone, I could think about art. I could write poetry and play the guitar. I could run for miles and miles, until my lungs burned and I collapsed into the grass, feeling the earth slowly sinking beneath my body.

It was during these times that I was able to forget that I was a woman.

In truth, it was actually in these moments of solitude, these moments where I was able to drop the persona I had put so much blood and sweat into creating, that I was experiencing the divine feminine

To be connected to my soul and the soul of the planet, to be full of love for myself as a part of humanity—this is was the essence of who I was naturally. 

Only my true nature was buried under a pile of crazy. 

The feminine reality, which varies for every woman depending on her age, race, upbringing, economic status, and immediate environment, is typically wrought with damaging and limiting beliefs we have about ourselves that do not serve to empower us. However, we are to some extent in control of our reality, and have the ability to change it, which is what the Wild Woman Diary attempts to do—through meditation, the yoni egg practice, lifestyle/behavior modification, and radical self-expression. 

And maybe, just maybe, the divine feminine can transform from a somewhat intangible idea into a very tangible reality: a new feminine reality. 

The Wild Woman Diary is a multimedia artistic project on several platforms. 

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