This is for the sensitive souls who feel it all.
For the long processors, the bedtime criers, the ones who are blinded by the light.
This is for the women who’ve had to learn the hard way that “no” is an act of respect.
For the stomachs shaken by the sight of anything impure, the hearts that give too much—is there even such a thing?
This is for the wild feelers, the primal goers, and the ones who dream of another planet that feels more like home.
This is for the girls who are shoved into who they aren’t—and for the wisdom inside their bones from the old soul reincarnated in this now.
For the ones who take any chance to be shoeless, braless, and without any worries about what comes next.
The sunshine dwellers, the earth children, the ones who have said yes to forgiveness and being held by the divine first.
This is for the women who not only run with the wolves, but bring their medicine into a society that thinks magic is just a trick.
For the ones who know there is more to life than the 9-to-5 grind and who’ll do anything to bring their art forward and get their message out for others to heal.
For the alchemists, the witches, the medicine mamas—the women who understand and overstep the matrix of fear.
This is for the women who’ve turned their “why me?” into an “it’s me” and became their own guru and source of schooling from beyond.
For the ones excited by ritual, devotion, and prayer and deflected by gossipers, gogogo’ers, and systems that forget to account for the soul’s need.
For the ones who will hold you while you’re hurting, nourish you with touch and truth while you’re processing, and create space for you to exist just as you are.
The ones who are unconditionally loving, kind, and always there—even just energetically holding your heart.
This is for the women who, at times, feel unsafe in their physical form.
For the bodies that have crashed and burned.
For the beings that have been birthed brand new.
This is for the goddesses who don’t know they are goddesses yet.
This is for the empathic angels, the introverted intuitives, and the ones who wear others’ feelings by accident on their sleeves.
For the ones who get glimpses, more and more each day, of what it is to create heaven on earth by embodying the light.
This is for the women who were told that they were too much, too sensitive, too slutty, too pretty, too feminine.
For the women who challenge their fears, follow their dreams, transcend their triggers, accept their paths, and do the work.
For the ones who crave climbing every mountain top and bathing in every rushing river.
For the ones who don’t give up and are always diving deeper within.
You are not alone.
Whatever you do, don’t hide.
Show your face. Show your story. Show your progress. Show your vulnerability.
You don’t have to have it all figured out.
Your medicine is like drops of raw, wildflower honey over a turmeric latte—and it’s too sweet not to share.
Your truth is enough.
The voice of your heart will emerge.
Stand up for something—anything, everything—you feel to be true.
They are the crazy ones, and you are going sane—this is your cue.
Closer to your inner being, you’ve found home.
And there is a web connecting you to me, and me to her, and her to the goddess in us all.
You are safe. You are held.
And we’re ready for you to proudly invoke the power that lies within.
Your purpose is to listen—deeply, intensively—and to use your body as a guide.
She is on your side.
Author: Carly Morgan Gross
Image: Author’s own
Editor: Yoli Ramazzina
Copy Editor: Travis May
Social Editor: Waylon Lewis