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Dear Masculine,

For you, both within and without. To him: the sacred seed, the warrior heart, the little lost boy, the golden child of play and innocence, the man he became, the beloved, the sacred, the toxic, the conscious and the unconscious, the becoming and the become; I lay down my sword and commit to listening to the truth of the dance between us so we may together stand in unison once more.

I write to apologise for my misdoings, my pain, and the projections I have inflicted upon you.

I seek not to forget the misdoings from either of us but to understand, to open, to learn, and to lean in. To listen to you from a place of heart, love, and compassion for us both. While there is pain, there is also misunderstanding.

I wish to stand beside you, to open myself to you, to be held by you, to hold you, and to love and make love with you with all my heart, my soul, and my being. I ask only you to listen and read from a place of allowing this to land as it lands, absorbed through the sacred vessel of your mortal body. May it land in your heart, act as a conduit, and open a pathway for connection and healing.

I’m sorry for the mixed messages I’ve sent your way because I have been unclear about my own needs and desires.

I’m sorry for the times when as a woman, I’ve belittled, bitched, and bemoaned you behind your back to my girlfriends because I’ve been afraid to face you—to communicate my truth.

I’m sorry for the stories and wounds of my ancestors which run deep in my veins. These mistruths that I wear like a cloak, claiming as my own, carrying the toxic beliefs of ages past to poison our journey downstream together. I’m sorry for not having been brave enough to see past these old beliefs and begin to weave my own cloak of truth. I commit to that now.

I’m sorry for the times my wounded self has pushed you away, blocking you from loving me, for my belief that I’m unlovable, I’m not good enough, I’m unworthy…the list is long.

I’m sorry for my personal stories of hurt, which I carry, blocking my vision to the possible union without giving space for you to show yourself to me and write a new story.

I’m sorry for the times I have played the victim and cast you as the perpetrator whilst also wanting you to fix me by riding in on your sacred steed, or your flash car and whisking me away.

I’m sorry I have wanted you to rescue me financially because I have been too afraid to stand in my own power around money and be brave enough to be fully seen professionally.

I’m sorry for not allowing you to provide for me as I have been too stubborn to let you in when this is one of your ways to show your love.

I’m sorry for wanting to be the “kept woman,” yet resented it when you’ve offered because really, I have wanted to be my own savior.

I’m sorry I’ve held my fear of abandonment and rejection as the shield of Athena with Medusa at my heart, willing you to turn to stone because of my lack of ability to let you in for fear of hurt.

I’m sorry for how I’ve seen you through the lenses of betrayal where I have betrayed myself.

I’m sorry for all the times I’ve said “no” when I’ve wanted to say “yes.”

I’m sorry for all the times I’ve said “yes” when I’ve wanted to say “no.”

I’m sorry for those times I blamed you for taking advantage when I’ve not spoken my truth and stood in my power for fear of being rejected, abandoned, and left.

I’m sorry for manipulating you and beguiling you with sex to control, mislead, and ensnare you.

I’m sorry for the times I stayed when I should have gone because I feared being alone.

I’m sorry I left when I wanted to stay because the pattern of trauma had me flee rather than confront my demons.

I’m sorry for seeing you as the demon.

I’m sorry for the times I gave up when I could have opened my heart to you and spoken my fears. Instead, I closed like Pandora’s box, not believing in hope, clinging to the old rather than opening to create new possibilities.

I’m sorry for the times I’ve fought you for the sake of having a fight.

I’m sorry for the times I went silent, shutting you out, and fearing to speak for you might leave.

I’m sorry I’ve sabotaged myself to punish us both.

I’m sorry I didn’t know my own needs and how to meet them but instead, I blamed you. How could you have known my needs when I’m blind to them myself?

I’m sorry for the times I’ve blamed you because I had been too scared to stand up and open my heart—to stand in my vulnerability. To say, “I love you.”

I’m sorry for the times I have wanted to rage against the patriarchy and took it out on you when you, too, are a product and a child of this paradigm.

The patriarchy is not your fault.

I’m sorry for the times I’ve ceased to allow you your grief for the fear of the never-ending river of tears within myself.

I’m sorry for the times I both shamed and denied you your righteous rage because I’ve been too afraid to stand in and own my own white-hot rage.

I’m sorry for the times I have called you weak for being vulnerable because I have been too afraid to stand in my vulnerability and be seen.

I’m sorry for hiding from you and from myself for fear of being seen while holding on to ancient and current beliefs that I will be persecuted. My old trauma was once again leading the way.

I’m sorry I have not spoken up while still believing somewhere that little girls should be seen and not heard.

I’m sorry I’ve curtailed myself, believing the illusion and false narrative of what it is to be a woman, which in turn meant I was unable to meet your gaze upon me.

I’m sorry I’ve allowed my body dysmorphia and stories of being too old, too fat, too thin to prevent me from opening up to you while hindering our deep intimacy.

I’m sorry for being angry with your sexual prowess, your primal lust, your desires, and your sacred masculine, which was another way you express your devotion and love. I am sorry for making this expression of you wrong as I have been intimidated.

I’m sorry for closing my legs and heart to you, preventing intimacy and passion because I have been afraid of my own primal lust and power.

I’m sorry for the times I have dissociated through intimacy, causing you to ask, “Where are you” because of my own unhealed trauma.

I’m sorry for the times I opened my legs and not my heart to you as I thought that this is what you wanted, only to betray myself and add to the hatred I felt toward you and myself, as again and again, I gave away my power without thought nor care. It was the only way I knew how to be close to you. It was what I thought you wanted rather than being honest.

I’m sorry for wearing masks, creating illusions in the hope you would want me more.

I’m sorry for asking you to be something you are not rather than accepting the perfect imperfection of you.

I’m sorry I’ve tried to be perfect rather than myself.

I’m sorry for judging you because I’m really judging myself

I’m sorry for dishonoring your sacred seed, your life force, and vitality.

I’m sorry for the times I’ve treated your body and scent with disdain because that’s how I view my own and avoid my primal scent of sex and sweat.

I’m sorry for the times I’ve mocked you because I couldn’t turn and face my own shadow in the mirror.

I’m sorry for cutting off my raw passion and wild sexuality for fear of being too much.

I’m sorry you were beaten and berated by others. Your own ancestral and collective wounds run deep that your heart has been broken and your sensitivity squashed, belittled.

I’m sorry that you were led to believe that a man showing vulnerability was weakness. For my wanting to fix this rather than hold you in a place acceptance, of reverence, and of love to allow you to heal your own wounds.

I’m sorry for the times I’ve slammed the doors to communication when I have felt hurt because I’ve not known how to speak my truth.

I’m sorry for the times I’ve armored my heart because I’ve wanted you to complete me because I couldn’t complete myself.

I’m sorry for the desire of a fairy-tale when I must be my own sovereign being.

I’m sorry for the times I’ve blamed you or scapegoated you because I have been afraid to face my own demons.

I’m sorry for the times I’ve cut off my own voice, for not speaking up out of fear while blaming you instead.

I’m sorry for the times I’ve demanded you open your heart before you were ready because I was insecure in your affections and dependent on your validation.

I’m sorry for the times I have berated you for not communicating, asking you to be transparent to appease my wounded self.

I’m sorry I’ve hounded you for attention rather than honoring your silence and need for being in your man cave to process.

I’m sorry for not understanding your language of love, for not knowing my own and communicating that so we can understand each other on a deeper level.

I’m sorry for blaming you for all that came before you.

I’m sorry I’ve been too blind and dismembered to see the festering wound you’ve come forth to help me heal in all your perfect imperfections.

I’m sorry for the times I’ve failed to see you in your brilliance and power.

I’m sorry I have put you on a pedestal then shamed you and got angry with you when you toppled.

I’m sorry for setting you up to fail.

I’m sorry for the pain I’ve caused you.

I’m sorry for the pain I’ve caused myself, which I’ve projected on to you.

I ask that my sacred tears heal the wounds of time between us, that I soften both to myself and to you so I may open up to the possibility of deeper love, respect, listening, and understanding.

I am sorry. Please forgive me.

I love you. Thank you.