Farewell, adventurers. Discover the world and send me a postcard, so alone doesn’t feel so hard, remind me the world is bigger than this town.
The scared little girl in me, the hurt, abandoned, and abused teenager, the reckless, and out-of-control young adult, my Maiden Goddess, all had to die last night so that my Mother Goddess can be reborn to this new beginning of my life as a Wife.
Bang the drum for our sons and daughters, for husbands and wives, mothers and friends. Shout death’s name to a clueless world. Bang the drum loudly! Love in grief has a powerful rhythm. Bang the drum with courage and strength! Bang it loud filled with compassion! Bang the drum proudly!
This is no time for the bash-your-ex friend or the I-told-you-so 'friend'. You want clean-energy people who are there to lift you up without having to bring down another person when doing so. If you don’t have these kinds of people around, find a support group or a therapist who can hold space ...
The lives of these women are shattered. Only their husbands know. Their children still do not. One can only hope that through their courage to share their stories with outsiders, they may at some point dare to speak openly. Until then, a lot has to change in this country for women to rise.
I want a man who won’t settle for a stable job, house, car, wife, kids, pension, but thinks outside the box for what could be possible with his time here on Earth, and sees part of that journey as making others’ lives joyful, meaningful and more sustainable.
I feel rejected. I must be doing something wrong, be unappealing to him, for this kind of reaction to occur. I know: he says it’s not me, it’s him, but it wasn’t always like this. Is it because I’m getting older? Am I not sexy? Most importantly: does he not feel connected to me?