i’m tired.

Waning Gibbous Moon in Taurus

My goal when I communicate about anything is to open doors, create safe spaces…

I want to bridge gaps and bring us closer together, not push further apart.

And I can’t keep pretending that i’m not absolutely fucking exhausted about the way things are and have been for far too long.

Because I know you were taught the same bullshit that I was.

I know it doesn’t serve any of us

I know it’s not your fault.

And I know you aren’t helpless— you can do better.

I’m not here to beat up on you. Or to talk down to you.

You are so much more than that.

I want to call you up to your full capacity.

It doesn’t do you or the world any service to pretend that it’s just the way it is and as though you aren’t capable of being more, of being a whole being.

Nor does it do the world a service for me to stay small or quiet for your comfort; to be less of me so you don’t feel insecure or inferior.

I want to meet you in your fullness. Not this half version we are all so familiar with.

And it’s your choice to embrace that or not; it’s your choice whether you want to be met. And…

I’m tired.

***

I’m tired of being told that the clothes that I wear; that the body I walk this earth in, is a distraction. That my making eye contact or being friendly is an invitation for your unwanted advances. That you can’t see past what it is you desire to see how uncomfortable I am.

I’m tired of having to play traffic cop and have my guard up. Of your sense of entitlement and expectation of how I show up for you.

I’m tired of being verbally assaulted for not leaning into your advances.

I’m tired of you leaning in, only to run away the second it feels like you may have to take responsibility and show some discipline.

I’m tired of being demonized or treated as something to be resisted and kept at arms length because you are too afraid to touch your own vulnerability and the mirror of mine is too much to stand in for you.

I’m tired of being fought. Of being accused of trying to control you because you feel out of control; because you need the control and without it you don’t know how to swim in the uncertainty that is life.

I’m tired of your suspicions about my ulterior motives when I speak directly and openly about what I want; about me being empowered in my sense of self; in my sexuality; in my boundaries, that I set, not to keep you out, but because they are in alignment with my integrity and allow me to rest in a space with you, open to you— to pour into you. [Isn’t that what you want— to be given to and received— in love?]

And it’s not all about you. I know you aren’t familiar with that concept. But i’m not here, spending my time and energy thinking of all the ways I can trick you. When I say I want honesty, it means I want honesty. When I state something clearly about what I want, I mean it. It’s not a trick or a trap i’m setting. If you don’t want the same thing, it’s really ok. Even if my feelings get hurt in the process. Not everyone is going to be a good fit. And I can manage my feelings. I can hold space for pain and disappointment. And I can survive it. So can you, if you were willing to give it a shot. And it’s ok if you don’t want to do that either, just don’t pretend you do to save face and then run and hide when faced with the opportunity.

[And to be clear: it isn’t about you protecting my feelings when you avoid telling the hard truth’s— thats about your discomfort in standing in and communicating that truth. It doesn’t make you valiant or kind, it makes you a coward.]

I only want truth. Not the story you think I want to hear. I want your truth. I want to know what it is you really want. I want to know you. Including the messy and uncertain parts.

[And for the record, I know when you aren’t being honest. I can’t explain how I know, but I know. Often times, you may not even realize you aren’t being honest, because you aren’t used to even telling yourself the truth. And I have compassion for the journey it takes to get to the truth beneath the stories we have picked up and tell ourselves in order to fit in this world.]

I see you. I truly understand and I’m not judging you.

And i’m so tired. Of walking on eggshells around your fragile ego. It’s one thing to be shaky standing in the discomfort of uncharted territory. But it’s a whole different vibe when you have the nerve to try to manage and control me for your own comfort and then talk about my emotions being a weakness or too much; when you twist my words or when you dismiss or reject my experience because you can’t handle witnessing the raw and unfiltered delivery of it.

[We don’t live an entire life without going through painful experiences, and I don’t need you to take on the weight of mine. I just need you to hold space for and witness when it comes up. The life we live inevitably shapes who we are— for better or for worse— and how we show up to things like relationship, friendship, sex, intimacy. That’s life.]

I’m tired of you projecting your inability to connect with your own emotions onto me and acting like you are doing something to protect me. It’s just another way to protect the ego that needs a damsel in distress to save; when you don’t know your value outside of providing or fixing.

I don’t need you to save me, I need you to show up. To stand in and for your truth. I need you to realize how sacred your space is and honor that first and foremost. And if you say you want me, I need you to meet me in mine and not feel afraid because I don’t need you to save or fix me. My not being helpless is not a threat to your “manhood” whatever that even actually means…

[But, it does seem to make you uncomfortable— stating that my needs matter too. That my pleasure isn’t about your ego. It’s not about some outcome you can pat yourself on the back about as you replay it in your mind. It’s not even about an outcome. It’s about the journey. It’s about connecting. Not a transaction. It’s about experiencing and flowing and deepening and enjoying the freedom that exists in that safe and delicious space. It’s not about pushing the right buttons to complete the next level. My body isn’t something to be played and achieved with a score attached to it at the end. And if you weren’t present enough to the moment that you don’t know if I came, don’t fucking ask me, please— just don’t do it.]

I’m tired of being misunderstood.

I’m tired of being held at arms length.

Tired of you walking into my space for your own desires without any intention of truly meeting me.

I’m tired of transactions.

[I want depth. Intimacy. Relationship. And I want a type of relationship that isn’t cookie cutter or the standard. I want to create a relationship built on trust and truth and freedom and unconditional love. Where two people are choosing the life they want to create; together.]

And i’m tired of being accused of anything less than that.

I’m tired of being pinned to the wall when i’m anything less than perfect.

[I am a human being. And I don’t know everything. I make mistakes and I own up to my mistakes. I do my best to learn and do better. And I hold space for that in you as well. I receive you in all of your humanity. Can you—will you— meet me in mine?]

I’m tired of having these narratives run through my head.

I’m tired of these cycles that sweep through me and knock me on my ass, where I am so angry and resentful toward the men I have encountered or witnessed throughout my life that have treated me [and others] as a transaction or a conquest; who couldn’t see or meet me and how that effected how I showed up in the world.

And i’m tired of feeling resentful or angry that I let it. That I changed me for their comfort or a false sense of belonging and conditional love. And I also know that if I keep dancing around it or keeping it trapped inside of me, it cannot be transmuted into any sort of inspired action; into any real change or growth. So as uncomfortable as this all makes me, and likely makes you...there it is.

I’m tired.

***

Day 22/28: I’ll tell you what. I really didn’t want to write [or publish] this. This topic brings up a lot of instinctual resistance within me. It’s feels like a dangerous place where i’m about to be swatted down. But it’s been what is coursing through me the past few days [and the past few years frankly] and what came out when I first sat down to write. And I tried to write something else, but came back to this instead, so yea…. here we are.

I don’t want to project or blame. There is too much of that going on in this world and that’s not my aim nor what I want to contribute to the conversation because I don’t think it’s particularly productive in opening lines of communication or in building relationships. But i’m really tired. And there is some swirling energy in the ether that is bringing up a lot of wounding around the historical mistreatment— the violence, abuse, rejection and fear— of women, including myself. I want to be able to frame this conversation in an inviting way. And this is one of those uncomfortable ones. This is my truth and it’s all I have in me today. So again, i’m not writing this to blame or shame anyone who may be reading this and finds themselves taking offense. If you want to do so, that’s your choice, but I would always instead invite some curiosity and reflection into the areas that bring up resistance. And if it doesn’t apply to you, then it’s not about you.

And i’m not overlooking or bypassing that men suffer as well, as do many other segments of the population that I happen to not fall into the category of; this is just what is in me today, coming from my white, cisgender, hetero, white female perspective. And with that disclaimer, this is where I will call it for the evening. If anyone has anything they would like to discuss in relation to anything i’ve written, my door is open as long as you walk in it with an open, curious and respectful way. We can have hard conversations with love.

Sending so much love to anyone else feeling some of these wild vibes today, or over the last few days for that matter [or the whole of this year if that’s where you are]. And for clarity sake, by vibes, I mean “fuck the patriarchy, let’s burn it all down'“ vibes.— that’s just where i’m at]. If you are feeling some other sort of vibes, I’m sending you love and an encouragement to hold space for whatever is there— we may just be in different head/heart spaces ;). Regardless and always, I appreciate you being here on the journey with me.

With gratitude and always LOVE,



{matriarch}

Waxing Gibbous Moon in Sagittarius

I spent some time this evening with my grandmother.

She is 89 years old and I had this realization on my drive home, that there are only a handful of times in my adult life that I have willingly gone to spend time with her one on one [without some family event as the catalyst]. I’ve judged myself as being a “bad” grandchild, and felt a guilt that I had a hard time bringing her in close to me. I felt sad that I didn’t ever really know how to connect with her, and found myself not even really wanting to for a long time, and I could never put my finger on why that was.

And it’s only been in the last few years I realized: Trust. I didn’t trust her. I’ve done a lot of unpacking around my resentments and distrust of those who I know love me the best that they can, but it’s taken years of this coming home journey to open myself up to build trust and true relationship with certain people in my life, and especially the women in my family. Because while it was they who I rationally know showed me the most love, and never shied away from telling me exactly how much they loved me—there was a part of me, part south node in 8th House Scorpio [karma to work through around trust and betrayal as a whole in this life] —and then part “little me”, that carried a perception— a story and distrust—that they didn’t protect me; that they stayed out of the line of fire and let me take the heat to protect themselves[the un-mothered mothers— if you haven’t heard of this concept and it just grabbed your attention—read The Ugly Duckling story in “Women Who Run With the Wolves”] … that’s the story my inner child has been carrying around as armor for 30+ years and projected out to keep me on guard and at a “safe” distance from them.

And there is more story there, that maybe i’ll dig into at a later time, but for now, I want to talk about the contrast of what i’m experiencing now, after 20 years of feeling a huge gap between my grandmother and myself and how we are finding our way back to each other, truly meeting for the first time.

One of the best shifts that have come as a byproduct of my coming home to myself— showing up for and as fully me as I can be— is that it has opened the door for those old resentments to be healed and moved out of the way so I can see others clearly and begin to build trust and healthy relationships; especially with those who have always loved me and tried to show me that love in the ways that they knew how—even when I didn’t know how to recognize and receive it.

The bridge I had to cross to meet them was accepting their love without attachment and clearing the way of the hurt I had harbored beneath the surface for so much of my life. It had to be acknowledged [as irrational and gross as it felt to do so], witnessed and processed in order to move it’s way through—in order to make space for a more true, and pure love to flood in. This has been a hard and humbling process for me; one I have leaned into begrudgingly with more projection, blame and “poor me” narratives than any other relationships…

…And then there are boundaries. I had to start setting and holding boundaries from a place of love and integrity, in all areas of my life; around what was ok and not ok for me— and holding those as an act of love, compassion and belonging to myself above all else. Nobody gets exemption from that, including family. Boundaries are the hardest. Especially those that you have decades of history of being a certain way with— it’s a process of stumbling a lot in order to eventually find sure-footing, after face-planting a few times— but it gets easier over time; and i’ll just leave it at that.

It also helps— the clearing space and the forgiveness and the boundaries— it allows me to see them as the perfectly, imperfect humans, doing the best they can— and recognize and accept my own reflection in them.

There is an acceptance that comes; of the truth that none of us get out of our childhoods without some wounds and stories turned beliefs that shape how we show up in the world; that there is trauma we pass along, generation after generation, and when it doesn’t get brought to the surface to be healed, it festers and creates unseen, yet felt wounds that continue to be passed along and played out on those around us and absolutely affects how we love and relate to one another. Acceptance comes when judgement and shame begin to leave the building… when we can begin to see it as it is, instead of how we still judge it should be [or how we would have preferred it to have been], and how powerless we have felt as a result of that which was mostly out of our control to begin with.

And where we reclaim our power amidst all of that which is out of our control: it’s in our decisions— what we do with these experiences. We either face them or we bury them; Lean into the discomfort and pain of processing that which has been festering, or escape and avoid. And I have to say, I have some badass warrior women in my family who at all ages and stages in life, are standing in the discomfort of facing things about self and humanity, love and relationship; things that happened a long time ago, yet affect the way in which they relate to the world around them. And they continually choose growth; they show up for a chance at deeper connection and more truth.

Brave, badass women I come from. 

This is a work in progress, and i’m definitely not there yet…I feel this is going to be a lifelong journey; but in taking the steps, leaning into the vulnerability of trust, the reward is i’m already seeing growth from these seeds that are being planted.

The beautiful thing about knowing my truth is that I can speak about these things, openly with my her now and I feel less and less resistance to allowing her close to me. The more I accept and affirm myself, the easier it is to take the risk of showing her who I am. And the reward is that I can also see and get to know her. And in all of this, as space is cleared, there is room for forgiveness. There is grace in this clearing.

And it’s opening the door for me to see all the beautiful things about her. She is an unbelievably resilient, resourceful and hardworking woman. A woman who was once a young girl who lost her mother too young, and never really had a safe space or home to call her own as she was passed along amongst family until she got married as a young woman. A girl who was only allowed to go to school until 4th grade (because her stepmother lied to her father and she was punished and he refused to send her any longer). Who is left-handed [like me] but being born in 1931, and in school not too many years later when they believed that left handed people were the devil or something ridiculous like that, and was forced to learn how to write right-handed, and now is ambidextrous. Who was acting as mother and father in her household for 6 years to my father and his older sister when my grandfather went to France to work [as he sent money home to them in Portugal]. Who fought for her children— got her family sponsored and visas and immigrated to the United States when my father was 12, so they would have a chance at more than was possible in Portugal, a chance for them to go to college. Who learned a new language, built a business and new home, all after the age of 40 as a means to continue to provide for her family.

She left behind the known and started over, again and again.

She is smart, curious and creatively gifted; has been a seamstress for over 70 years that creates beautiful clothing [and still can’t quite understand why I intentionally cut holes in my jeans, but she has finally given up asking why with me 😂]. She does all the things. And she loves her family fiercely. And her love language is constantly trying to feed us all the food.

And there is so much more she is capable of and so much she still wants to accomplish. Tonight she said to me “I’m a dreamer, and I constantly think, what I want to do tomorrow and next month, and next year… and I’m so old, but I still have so much I want to do and learn”.

She has many stories to tell. So many memories. I swear, she remembers things that happened 75 years ago and I can’t remember what I did last week.

I wonder, had she been born in another time, with more freedom as a woman, as the dreamer she is, who knows what she would have created, though, she has created a lot despite those societal barriers.… and there is so much more I don’t know, because for years I couldn’t get past my resentment and fear and bring myself to stand close enough to her to witness. This is something I am actively working to change.

I realize that I have always wanted in theory to be close with her, but felt blocked. And the cool thing is, that now, as her and I both get more honest about life and the way things were and the way they are different now, we are slowly but surely meeting each other, really for the first time. And it feels different. It feels, still a little uncomfortable, but full of potential. 

I couldn’t meet her in this space— a space of openness and receptivity— until I got out of my own way. And I also needed to speak things to her, that aren’t easy for me. But because I have, and because it’s my truth, She accepts me as I am. And what I have found, is she is a better listener than I ever gave her credit for. We both needed to make amends for ways that we had projected out onto the other. And that is happening, one conversation at a time.

And now that I have let her know how stifling it is to have her projections of who she thinks I should be [based on who the world told her for years she needed to be as a woman], or what she thinks I should be worried about [as a result of her fears and worries], she gives me more space to breathe, and subsequently we both breathe a bit easier, and our conversations get a bit deeper; with more listening, more love— more trust.

I didn’t realize that so much of my frustration for all these years came from the feeling that everyone had this idea of who I was, but never really stopped and looked closely enough to see beneath the surface, never truly saw me or knew me. So there were a lot of assumptions, or a comfort in how I did show up, but it was never me. And that was the part that felt so lonely, so unsafe. And it goes both ways. But in finding me, I’m finding my way to connections within a space that I always have desired but never knew before how to bridge that gap. I didn’t realize that all it really requires is love and a willingness to be fully and unapologetically me and giving others the opportunity and loving space to do the same.

This is about my relationship with my grandmother. And it’s about a bigger, deeper healing that is taking place.

Women coming together, from different generations, remembering how to relate to one another. Sharing stories. Getting honest and raw about what it’s like being a woman in this world, and how that has shifted over time. Breaking down the acceptance of what we “should be grateful for” while the world has done its best to tame us, and bit by bit, shedding the false skin we’ve been wearing, so we can see the true beauty and magic of the wild, creative spark, the life force that lives in our bones and cannot be stripped from us.

Tonight I spent time with the matriarch of my family. We shared space, we talked about relationships— marriage, divorce, family; curiosities about what happens to us after we die and how the Holy Spirit [how she resonates] or Divine [as I prefer to refer to this big energy] lives through us; religion vs. spirituality; the challenges of being human.

A few tears were shed.

And I am feeling full— for this time was nourishing in a way that I can’t describe and I feel hopeful that I will get to know and share more, about the powerhouse of a woman packed in a 5”1’ frame, that is my grandma Maria.

***

Day 10/28: I don’t have much to say other than, i’m grateful for the unfolding that is happening in my life in this present season. It’s too much to describe, and i’m attempting to in these little daily chunks. And I can’t wait to look back on this at some time in the future and witness from the distance how much life can happen in such a short period of time if we are just willing to lean into our fears and take it all in. There is so much juice to this life in the seemingly small moments. I am grateful for this day, for your presence here; for how much is truly possible when we are willing to open ourselves to all that we don’t know. This. Life. Is. Wild. And beautiful. And messy AF. And magical.

Have a beautiful evening, beautiful humans… I’ll see you soon.

With gratitude and always LOVE,