To the Wild Woman Who Risks It All.
I am a flight risk.
I am a wrench in the machine of conformity, and I will not linger where my soul is starved or where the air sucks breath and life from these bones.
I will run rampant and unrestrained into the great unknown fueled by the unbridled passions that flow in these veins.
I am out of their control, intensely focused and unwavering in my resolve, and I will not be the sacrificial offering upon their funeral pyre.
I am the woman who is done saying she is sorry for thriving outside of the boxes and coloring away from the lines. I am the unapologetic spark of fierce Divine Feminine that is never going to settle for anything less than soul-deep truth ever again. I am a flight risk to the strangling ways of the past that don’t fit me or serve my growth.
Let them call me wicked; let them paint me as vulgar in my defiant disobedience. I welcome their shock and disbelief.
Let me be an uncivilized woman then, untamed and feral with wild hair and shining eyes. Let me be unkempt, roaming free where the wind takes me and my soul urges me to soar. Let me answer to no master, and let me be chained no more to old beliefs and ideals.
I have no desire to be a proper woman, and submit to whatever that demands or entails.
I would much rather turn my head to the sky and howl. I would much rather ride the waves of luminous moonlight that stream down from the heavens, dancing all night in the wisdom of the trees. I would rather keep counsel with a sky filled with stars than those filled with contempt for the magic of all that I am.
I would rather embrace the priestess path guided by the wise woman within me than to silence this soul-deep knowledge and play out a part never meant for me.
Let them whisper of the savage woman, the fierce female who would not remain silent and swallow her words any longer. Let them wonder at her sanity, this woman who would not back down and hide from her own longing; she who would face the aching desire in her heart with eyes and arms wide.
Let them be wary of she who is her own champion, the heroine of her own story, and fierce warrior queen ruling from her own throne.
Let them shake their heads at her glorious unfolding, she who would leave no fantasy unexplored; she who would welcome only those worthy to worship at her temple and offer devotion at her altar of divine love. She who burned with holy fire, whose spirit had no time for their derision or disdain.
Yet, I beseech you, those who are wild, weird and wonderful, to run with me. Run to the edges of the known, far past the places of comfort and obedience where they try to contain us. Let us fly to where the clouds whisper to the stars, where only dreamers dare to tread. Let us stretch to places that are uncertain, and grow into this delicious expansion, wiggling our toes in seas of liberty.
Will you come with me past convention and throw the rulebooks out of the window? Will you let go of the ropes and free-fall with me into uncharted territory? Will you awaken from this restless monotony and run with me through fields of unexplored wonder? Will you pull your fingers through eternal wonder alongside me in this sacred space filled with possibility?
Will you make waves with me, rock the boat, and set out on the road less taken?
Because we were never meant to be chained wild women; we were meant to risk it all and fly.