26/08/2021
I’ll bet in a past life you burned witches at the stake.
You can feel my power.
My strength.
My sense of sovereignty and deep self love.
And this terrifies you.
Your hope is that by shaming me I will scurry away into the corner and hide. That I will dim my light and spend the rest of my days reliant and caged by my fear and anxiety.
You want me to be you.
And you’re playing your part beautifully, by the way.
Every inch of me is on fire with making you the villain. You're my very own Cruella Deville- the anti-heroine propelling me to question my beliefs. Am I being too seductive? Is my writing offensive? Will I embarrass my children?
Your accusations about my moral character did get under my skin.
I began to doubt myself.
But then I remembered,
I don’t give a s**t.
I subscribe to my inner authority and she is a wild, l***y bitch who follows her own juicy red heart.
But thank you, thank you, for giving me the gift of knowing. For forcing me to dig deeper into the diamond studded caves of self worth that are bank rolling this whole beautiful affair that I call my life.
And I’ll have you know,
I do love my life.
It’s messy and dynamic and filled with more love than you could ever imagine. This life is so vibrant and brutal and miraculous I often find myself kneeling before it in supplicant rapture and awe.
Believe it or not, even after all this, after your wicked attempt to shut me up and burn me down-
I love you.
I really do.
I imagine that in Soul space we’re great friends. We’re high fiving everytime you make a snarky remark about a post I’ve written or roll your eyes when I mention the Wild Woman.
Because of you, I am more wedded to the commitments I make to myself.
And the stake you created to set fire to me?
It doesn’t stand a chance because,
I am a hunk
of Burning Love.
🔥🔥🔥🔥
