Do not ask me to bend again. For too long I have been contorted in attempts to accommodate the distortions in the wounded collective ego. I’ve disallowed the fullness of me to be seen in order to allow others a sense of comfort and safety.
I will not bend under the weight of collective fear, anger, hatred or disillusionment any longer.
I will not submit myself to the false powers of terror or greed.
I will not make myself small before the churning, turning wheels of capitalist corruption. They do not define my worth.
I will not lie down and die.
My spine is forged of tempered steel, made indestructible in the fires of transformation.
My will is iron and ice, crafted through millennia of subjugation and compromise.
My womb is a fiery, burning chalice of creation from where all life is born.
I. will. not. bend.
I am alive, replete with the roaring rage of generations past whose essence has been overlooked, overshadowed and overtaken.
I will not stand by and silently watch the destruction of all that is sacred.
I will grab my pen and my sword, my paintbrush and my life force, and I will carve away, rewrite and paint over the stories of collective delusion. In their place I will leave magic, ecstasy and fierce, undying love.
I will hold my fired steel spine erect and use my loudest voice to shed light on abusive and distorted structures.
I will laugh in the face of immature despots vying for false power.
Fuck nice. I grow weary of insipid sheep clawing at the robes of wounded egos who want others to fulfil their desperate need for attention. Nice has its place until it becomes an aspect of the distortion.
Do not waste your precious life force energy attempting to extend understanding and compassion to those who would cut your heart out to own its love.
Now is the time for wildness. Now is the time for those who have walked through the fires of hell to stand up and claim their place on centre stage.
The time of the wounded masculine is over. I will not bend. Rise up to meet me or be left behind.
Call together the guardians of your heart and make haste. Do not wait for others to catch you up or ‘get’ you. You are Warriors of Light. Release the shackles of indentured servitude to old, distorted structures. Say farewell to the days of playing the game by someone else’s rules.
I. WILL. NOT. BEND.
My strength is in the wisdom I’ve gained through daring to be reborn. My beauty is in my acceptance of my divine imperfection. My courage is in my expressions of vulnerability. My power is in the truth I speak. My divinity is in my rage, and the freedom to express its glory.
Enough is enough. It is time.
I am the Divine Feminine. You WILL hear me roar.
* This post can also be found on Rebelle Society *