I know it’s easy to forget—to buy into the shiny emptiness of what society says we should be…

And feel out of sorts, out of place, unattractive

Too much and not enough at the same time

But—

You’re breathtaking, my dear woman.

It is written in how deeply you feel

And how brightly you burn

When you remember who you are.

Because you are the earth, lush and wild,

You are the expanded lap of the universe.

Why do you make yourself small

And bite-sized for him?

Why do you twist, and turn, and shave yourself down,

And pray that he’ll notice?

Why do you try and try

To earn his love?

Don’t.

You are the explosion of a nebula and the nectar kiss of an ancient sex goddess.

You are the treasure, the truth, the freshness, the medicine.

You are the depth, the roaring, the promise of springtime in a single bud.

You are the messiness, the complete and utter soul-dripping perfection.

Stop wallowing in the arms of a half-assed love that’s long wilted.

Instead—

Be

Queen

Dab roses on your wrists, and scent your hair with frankincense and cinnamon.

Re-sanctify. 

Re-center. 

And be ready

For the man who laps up your complexities like they’re the marbled tips of the Milky Way.

Be ready for the man who loves your fire

And fans your wildness with his hot breath as he kisses you all over.

Be ready for the man who isn’t blinded by your light,

But honored, humbled, and inspired

That a woman could be brave enough

To burn so brightly.

Be ready for the man who isn’t scared of your fierceness,

Who respects

That you have claws

And know how to use them.

That you know what you like

And don’t like.

What you need

And don’t need.

Be ready for the man who adores the tender aches etched in the delicate pages of your glorious heart,

The chapters and shadows that you once disowned

Because you thought they were ugly…

Oh, honey—

He’ll love those too.

He’ll hold ‘em close

And tuck his fingers into your tenderst corners

With a touch that tastes of cherries and whispers to the deepest places

And heals you

Because he is able to surrender his armor

To the jeweled palace

Of your unbroken femininity.

Be ready for the man who is exhilarated

To see you

Exalted

Peeling your layers back

And dying

And coming back to life

Even better

Never, ever succumbing

To a life of stagnation

Or slow decay

But constant radiance, wonder, soul

And the catapulted confidence of a priestess shooting out of the dirt in springtime.

Be ready for the man who does not tremble

When you cry and feel deeply

When you free fire-breathing dragons from the base of your spine…

When truth falls like lush rubies from the skies of your supple lips,

He’ll hold space for you—

Lapping up your passionate expressiveness like the grass when it rains

Elated and thirsty

To taste the honeyed drops that fall like dew with every word you speak.

He’ll see you

All of you

The whole you

For the incredible blessing you are.

He won’t need you to be small.

He’ll just need you to be yourself—

Grand, glittering, real, raw, vulnerable, deep…

Messy, tender, strong, and just completely fantastic.

Be ready for him—

The man

Who isn’t blinded

By your light

But encouraged by it

Moved by it…

The ancient energy

That erupts inside

Like lightning

It bubbles and shimmies like an earthquake

A sight so exquisite it punctures down to the bone

And brings him to his knees in the sweetest way

Because—you’re anything but small.

You are the grass, the hope, the roots, the sun, the healing, the death that begins new life.

You are a woman.

You are the medicine.

So stand up—

There is no need to crawl and beg for love

To bend and twist

And long for approval

From a man who can’t see you,

Who can’t show up for you,

Even on his best day.

The eyes of his heart are closed, sewn shut,

And you can’t open ‘em.

Stop trying.

Stand up…

And don’t wait, like those annoying “rules” say we should.

F*ck waiting

Be brilliant

Be peaceful

Be wild

Be magnetic

Be vulnerable

Wave the wand of your heart

And carve your dreams out of the sh*t

Into beautiful stones of reality

And be ready

Be open

Be real

And expect

Yes, expect

The man

Who will be dazzled

By the way the moon moves in your smile

By the way you squeeze the pain and make it into art

By the way you live and breathe in the deep, blue seas of authenticity

With all the power that’s yours naturally

When you stand

In

Truth

And don’t hustle for love

And know how worthy you are, inherently

Be ready for the man

Who can embrace

All of you

Every shade

Every dream

Every so-called mistake.

But you need to embrace yourself first.

And in that sublime basking on your sacred temple shores

You will then be ready

To embrace the man

Who can

Blaze

With

You

Lighting up

The sky

Together

In shades of peach and nectarine

So incredibly beautiful

You’ll weep

From joy…so much joy!

Expect

To be

Loved

In

This

Ecstatic

Way.

It’s your birthright.

~

Relephant:

Become a Goddess.

~

Author: Sarah Harvey
Image: Unsplash/Karina Tes
Editor: Yoli Ramazzina
Copy editor: Callie Rushton