Ode to My Greatest Lover

I wake.
I open myself.
I breathe in deeper.
I feel my fear of this expansion,
of this birthing,
This quaking of my soul as it rattles the cage that it has lived in so long.
My back arches as though my being in is orgasmic rapture,
my hips feel tense and my pussy quivers, tightening, squeezing, releasing.
My heart beats faster and then holds its emotion,
as to not let it escape,
the tears want to be released,
stream down my cheeks and be tasted by my lips.
My lips long to be devoured,
seduced by my lover.
My hands burn,
tremble and shake.
My breath is deep in this moment as I try and relax myself,
Relax from this expansion,
this birthing,
this quaking of my soul.
The cage that once held me so tight,
its bars are no more.
The walls that sheltered me and contained me,
have vanished.
There is nothing.
Nothing more of the me that I have been till now.
I am almost non existent and yet everything.
It is terrifying and brilliant.
I know that I am waking,
that I am becoming,
more.
It is all that I need,
all that I crave,
all that I am.
I am this rapture.
My body opens more,
ready to receive the deepest of penetration,
hungry and wet,
waiting for the teasing touch of my lover in this instant,
My lips full of pulsing blood, my muscles tingle and long for the sensation of being taken,
taken into this climax.
Taken into this rapture.
My soul know’s,
it know’s that there is no escape,
there is no refuge,
this will be orgasmically painful,
and will envelope me.
This will carry me to the greatest of heights,
where I will not be able to move,
I will only be carried.
Carried into the light.
Carried into the joy.
Carried into the bliss.
Carried into the orgasm.
Here, here I will meet my lover.
Here I will wake,
here in the arms of the one that holds me.
Here in the embrace,
I will be penetrated.
Deeper.
Deeper.
And when I feel I can go no further,
when I feel that I have nothing more to give,
nothing more to offer,
when I am exasperated and breathless,
when I am certain that the climax is over,
Deeper.
Deeper.
Till I can not deny.
I cannot hold back any longer.
Where my only option is to surrender.
Where I will become.
The rapture.
My legs open wider,
my knee’s tremble,
deep within my womb there is a fire,
there is creation,
there is a calling.
There is a earning.
Juices are flowing,
I am wet with desire.
I am wet with hunger.
I am salivating…
My lover.
Takes me.
Deeper.
Deeper.
I feel I am too much,
Can I be held if I am too much?
Can I be accepted if I am too much?
Will I frighten my lover?
Will my chaotic, crazy, passion devour him?
 
Yes.
Yes it will devour.
It will eat him up.
He will come to me,
I will drink from him,
I will inhale his essence,
I will absorb his breath.
He will seize to exist,
he will be everything.
And nothing.
This rapture,
This climax.
I sit in it,
fearful.
Intent.
Full.
Hungry.
Here I sit.
In bliss.
Knowing that this is the rapture of my soul.
This is the knowing,
the meeting,
of me.
My lover, he has always been there.
He will NEVER leave.
He is there,
penetrating me.
Deeper.Deeper.
Until I can come no more.
Until my juices have flooded my world,
washed me clean,
and carried him away.
Here,
I wake.
I open myself.
I breathe in deeper.
I feel my fear of this expansion,
of this birthing,
This quaking of my soul as it rattles the cage that it has lived in so long.
I release.
I come.
I surrender.
In the arms of my lover.
In the arms of God.
I can fly.
 

As always,

Stop Existing & Start Living

Join Kendal TODAY for a F*ck Yes Life experience. Limited time access to 1:1 coaching and online coaching programs to help you master your FREEDOM based life NOW.

Mother F*cker Messed Up My Orgasm.

 
I sit here this morning not wanting to open up my text thread with my ex.
The negativity,
the control,
the anger that comes from it,
and that I feel inside just at reading the last words on the thread.
 
“Really?”
 
I already know the tone.
The comments and commands.
I feel disgust at this thread.
 
Late last night I saw his final words,
they hit me like lead in my gut,
Sorrow,
Distrust,
Bitterness,
Anger.
 
It is all here.
Stepping away from an enviroment,
a relationship for a few weeks or months
 

“Really”

 
does show you a person’s truth.
While in the relationship we make excuses,
get caught up in the day to day,
and simply just don’t want change.
We don’t want to have a relationship fail.
We want to make it work.
We want to be accepted, loved and connected.
Even at the cost of our well-being,
Our happiness,
Joy,
Health and freedom.
 
SO we ignore,
hide, ‘cover that shit up and act like it is not there.
 
Truth never stays hidden forever though.
A person’s true color’s ALWAYS come out.
And in my saga, the color’s are not so pretty in this relationship.
 
The truth of the reality is that I masked from myself my partners need to control and dominate. I knew he was an alpha personality walking in, and loved that about him. His strength and ability to hold boundaries was attractive. His assertiveness and masculine power was what I needed and desired. I needed the security of this. I needed the foundation of this. I also loved his calm, cool, collected stance. I loved his seemingly open mindedness and playfulness. He offered what I needed in the moment.
 
It was a season.
There was a reason.
 
Now those were gone.
Now I am left with the flip side.
The control freak, the aggressor, the one who when he does not get his way acts like a 3 year old and retracts himself, his love and says, ” I hate you.” Takes his ball and goes home.
 
Now I am left with his need to try and control me through our children. I wonder if he even notices it, if he is aware of his pattern’s, his actions or if he is just playing the role that is comfortable to him and feel’s safe.
 
Now I am left with the residue of his energy as it wafts through the text message, the facetime, the phone calls and emails.
 
Now I am left with him just ignoring anything he does not want to discuss because of the discomfort and his knowing that it will be emotional and I will speak my truth and he can do nothing to stop it.
 
Now I am left with him proving what his priorities are.
His bottom line is focused on his bank account and not on relationship.
His priority is to pretend that none of his actions had anything to do with anything.
His priority is to run and hide behind his masks, not seeing that he is turning into his worst nightmare. The people he always claimed he did not want to be like he is now mimicking them. He is now becoming the one’s that have since passed and he is honoring the patterns that they taught him as a little boy. He is now honoring a closed heart, a barren soul, a disconnected life.
 
In his desire to control, he does nothing more than share his rage and hatred. His fear.
 

But none of this is reason for him to steal my orgasm.

 
No, that is on me.
 
But I want to cast blame onto him.
I want to point the finger and say he did this to me.
 
Yes, this morning I sit here not wanting to open this thread of text messages between us because I feel all of it.
 
Last night, I did not open it in hopes to avoid it.
I wanted to avoid the negativity of his control.
I wanted to avoid looking at him on facetime with our nightly call for our kids.
I wanted to just not feel him for just one night, one day.
I wanted the freedom that flickers through my days.
I wanted to breathe.
 
But that last statement attached itself to me,
the thread just lingered and my ego ran and played with it.
 

“Really?”

He was inquiring why I had not answered I am sure,
he was frustrated that in his grand attempt to contact everyone in my home to get me to contact him had not worked,
he was upset that he could not control the situation and that I had made a stance to just say no.
 
Our children had not asked to speak to him so I felt no guilt in not speaking tonight.
 
We were busy having fun, connecting and laughing.
We were snuggling.
So why wreck a good moment.
A good memory for his desire to control?
 
Yes, this is the question of the morning.
Why allow him to steal it?
I held firm for my children.
For that moment.
But then I allowed that word, that thread to infiltrate my soul.
I allowed it to poke at me.
And I allowed it to steal the depth of orgasm that I was offered in the night hours with my lover.
 
I pushed myself to open,
I felt pain from doing this.
I shut myself in fear,
fear I would reveal to much.
I got captured by that damn text thread,
over and over again.
 
Into my head,
out of my body.
Away from my deep orgasm.
Keeping it surface.
All the while desiring what I had just tasted 24 hours before.
 

That mother f*cker messed up my orgasm.

F-*-C-K!!!!!!

 
I allowed him to.
Just like I allowed him to control to much of my life in our relationship. Just like I allowed him the power to act the way he did. Just like I allowed myself to stay,
to stay in the enviroment that was not conducive to my purpose,
my heart, my life.
 
YES
 
That mother f*cker messed up my orgasm.
But I made the choice to not release,
to breathe in.
To hold him and his energy
instead of leaning in to my lovers thrusts of passion,
my lovers presence,
my bliss.
 
He only messed it up because I allowed it.
And this morning, I sit here witnessing my ego, my pain, my rage, my holding.
 
Here I sit with my body breaking down.
My body screaming at me, “STOP! – Let that shit go!”
 
Here I sit, witnessing that he not only physically hurt me,
controlled me in ways that I was not aware of,
hid his truth from me,
Held anger toward me and lied to my face about it,
He not only did not love me and may have never,
but he continued to punch me in the heart.
He was willing to try and dominate my life,
the children’s life,
through textbook tactics of an abuser.
 
It is shocking to me.
It is on going.
It is healing to see things from this vantage point.
 

That mother f*cker messed up my orgasm.

And I am in gratitude for it.

 
Thank you Mother F*cker for being you and showing me my strength.
Thank you Mother F*cker for showing who you really are so that I could claim whom I am more.
Thank you Mother F*cker for the season, the reason and the blessings that we shared.
Thank you Mother F*cker for coming into my life and being EXACTLY what I needed.
 
With out you, I would not be me.
Empowered.
Guided.
Desiring more.
Certain.
 
Thank you for supporting my determination and drive.
Thank you for your disconnect to your emotions and heart, and showing what that does to a human, to a relationship, to a life and making me aware of where I meet you there and that…
 
I CHOOSE.
I choose to STOP meeting you there.
I choose instead to open up my heart.
To feel my emotions.
To forgive.
To heal.
To laugh.
To connect.
 

I choose to LIVE.

Unbound, free and on purpose.

 
Cut loose from the chains that you tried to hold me with.
Cut loose from the chains that I held myself with.
Cut loose from the fear.
 
YES
I choose.
I choose to…
 

Stop Existing & Start Living

Join Kendal TODAY for a F*ck Yes Life experience. Limited time access to 1:1 coaching and online coaching programs to help you master your FREEDOM based life NOW.

My monkey’s tried to get me laid.

🙊🙉🤭😈 My monkey’s tried to get me laid. 🔥🔥🙊☺️
Only in my world of crazy does this sort of stuff happen.
Only in my world is it allowed,
Embraced and accepted.
 
In truth, It was a day of frustration, what started out to be a productive, good feeling day quickly shifted gears to frustration and overwhelm. Not only was I just in pain physically from pushing my healing body to do more than what it most likely should have, I was also pushing myself emotionally to work through boxes of old energy from my marriage of 20 years and then my next relationship of almost 7 years.
 
Sorting and cleaning a garage full of memories can have its fair share of painful moments.
 
Really dredging up the past and forcing yourself to let go.
See the truth that you once lived,
and embrace your moment now.
 
This was my Monday.
All because the universe proclaimed that my internet wire would get cut from the yard guy and I would be out of online commission until it was repaired. So, I did the next best thing….
 
Was proactive and started sorting, cleaning and putting my house together.
 
After a long and full day of multiple emotions rising to be siphoned through, I was exhausted, smelly 😱 and just wanting to rest, have a glass of wine or maybe something harder, get my munchkins down for bed and yes…
 

Yes,

I wanted a good orgasm.

 
Lucky for me I had this last part already in the works by inviting my lover over for dinner.
 
And planned on having myself and him for desert. 🔥😜🔥🔥
 
Everything was taking longer, except for what I was wanting to take a long time and that was the nakedness in my bed. But no, instead I was blessed with bedtime item’s and simmering down of little one’s taking MUCH longer than wanted, especially since I sat there, needing to pee, needing to shower, and just wanting to relax in my lovers arms.
 
Instead I was blessed with laughter coming from the other room, where my elder children, my friends and my lover enjoyed themselves and joked, connected and made light in the evening hours while I snuggled down my munchkins, smelt my stench and craved to just let go.
 
Breathing in the moment. I felt my ego on the cusp of just screaming.
 
My 21 year old daughter came and offered to help me, I shot her down, and offered her a not very well disguised guilt trip on poor mom’s mood.
 
My friend came and offered to help, I shot her down and offered another ego based comment, sharing that I had it all under control and that it was F-I-N-E.
 
I heard myself saying this bullsh*t,
I wanted the saving,
I wanted the connection,
The help.
I wanted to effing shower!
I wanted to get these babies down so I could laugh,
enjoy my evening some,
get out of my head and into my body,
and get to what I was really craving.
The orgasm between my sheets.
 
But I denied myself the opportunity to have it sooner than I could receive it.
 
I denied my family and friends the opportunity to help me,
to support me.
 
Instead I wanted to sit in my disgust just a little bit longer.
I was punishing myself,
for something I was not even conscious of.
I felt shame.
I felt rage.
I felt depression.

I felt like a total f*ck up to life.

 
I held my son on my lap as he wiggled and fought sleep,
looking at him and wondering how I could have been so stupid to let myself get caught up in yet another bad relationship with a man who claimed all this and that and in a moments notice could shut out everything, everyone and just walk away. In gratitude for the lives of my children, the reasons, the blessings from my relationship, I could smile but in my heart I felt all of this…
 
And I felt shame.
I felt guilt.
I felt lost.
 
So I punished myself in this moment.
I denied support, love, help and orgasm.
I denied God from helping me achieve my goals.
 
My monkey’s on the other hand refused to listen to my ego.
They refused to let me sink to far.
They refused to let mom crash,
my friends were on board with the plan,
my lover was of course on board…lol
 
My monkey’s decided that it was time for me to take care of me and to go after what I not just wanted but NEEDED.
 
So my daughter’s came in and told me to go shower, to get clean, that they had their little brother’s.
A friend got me drink.
My lover provided a smile and sparkling eye’s with a clear intent.
 
I showered.
I shaved. (because that is what girl’s do when they are needing and wanting certain event’s 😈)
 
Clean,
refreshed,
ready,
lighter in spirit,
I emerged.
My little one’s asleep.
Laughter filled my dinning room,
I was now part of it.
I was fully there.
Sharing,
Connecting,
De-Shaming.
 
My monkey’s tried to get me laid.🙊🙊😜😜🙏
They made a plan.
They figured out who was taking over for night time child care,
who would sleep where, so that mom would not have to worry about children. They discussed it, argued about it and laughed.
 
At the end of it,
My monkey’s tried to get me laid,
and were successful.
 
They created the space for mom to go,
Be,
Do,
Have.
 
What I wanted and NEEDED.
With No Shame.
With No Guilt.
In Truth.
In Harmony.
In Love.
 
They knew how badly I needed to just be able to drop down and connect to my lover,
to myself,
to my orgasm.
 
They supported my well being.
 
My monkey’s.
My circus.
My crazy world.
My family tribe.
 
No Shame.
Only Open, Unconditional.
Love.
 
#lovemygrownassbabies
#fuckyeslife
#shamefree
 

And as always,

Stop Existing & Start Living

Join Kendal TODAY for a F*ck Yes Life experience. Limited time access to 1:1 coaching and online coaching programs to help you master your FREEDOM based life NOW.

Faith To Be F*cked Wide

Sadness.

Joy.

Amazement.

Surrender.

I shudder at the thought of the release.

Where will I go from here?

Whom will I become?

My heart is holding so much, I can barely withstand the sensations some days as my mind wonders and I lose myself in thought. The images of times gone past that I long to repeat. I long to hold close to me, knowing that I must let them go. They are no longer my reality. They taught me a deeper level of who I am and who I want to be, but they are no longer with me. Just like I am no longer the person I was yesterday, those realities are no longer here. Life teaches us that you can hold on to nothing. You take nothing with you.

Not into the afterlife, not into the next moment.

Not truly that is.

Sure, we can move forward with all this material stuff. We bring with us, sentimental things as we call the items that we fear to let go of, because we are scared that if we let go of the physical items that somehow our memories will part with them. We carry with us the valuables, those things that we believe that will cost us to much replace or inconvenience us somehow. In truth even these items bear with them some form of attachment to our past realities.

We hold on.

We hold on with all the strength and logic that we can muster.

We hold on with all the ego that we can pretend to ignore.

We hold on with a hope that the realities of yesterday that we loved so much and lost, will come back to us in some magical fashion.

Fearing that they will never.

Knowing that they will never.

Yet we hold on.

Orphans to our past, strangers to our future.

We feel lost in this new paradigm, where we know not what direction to turn, where we feel every choice is wrong. Stepping forward on a path that we have not ever been and that we can not see before us.

Faith.

Faith is all that we need in this time. We know this. We claim to understand it.

It is what all the saints, enlightened ones and masters have told us for thousands of years to lean on. Faith is the key to,

Overcoming our sadness,

Finding our joy,

Awakening to our amazement,

Surrendering to God.

Jesus said all we need is the faith of a mustard seed.

Mustard seeds are effing small.

Have you ever seen a mustard seed?

They are small little brown seeds, one tenth the size of a pea.

That is all the faith we need to move a mountain Jesus claimed. So how do we do this?

My mountains are here before me and they do not appear to be moving, they are steady and strong. Their paths are treacherous and carry with them many changes, much exhaustion, ravenous wolves flock on the paths and chase me, the nights are cold, and the cliffs are steep. The crest that I long to reach is so far before me I cannot not see it.

I cannot picture it.

My map is smudged.

It is written in a language I cannot speak.

I am lost.

I cannot be lost though.

God is guiding me.

This is the pilgrimage of my soul.

The discovery of the me I have longed to meet so many lifetimes ago. Here I am.

Finally, I am meeting me.

I am meeting my soul.

My faith.

Faith of a mustard seed, but faith still. Just like Jesus said, it is all we need. And so that is what I will lean on. The trust that my faith is strong enough to conquer this mountain. Faith enough to meet myself on this pilgrimage and not run from my shadows, not run from my desires, not run from my heart but instead embrace myself.

I need embraced.

My arms are open wide.

My body is ready to receive.

To be penetrated and made love too.

I am ready to surrender.

Here I am in the arms of faith, waiting to be carried on the path,

I long to be carried to my highest point, where I touch the clouds, see the sun beams dancing on snow covered tips of mountains around me. I desire to feel the crisp cool air of a new life that awaits. To breathe it in and allow it to fill me.

Restore me.

Recover my soul.

Faith.

All we need is a little faith.

Faith in me.

Faith in God.

Faith in these shaky leg’s that they will carry me.

Tears may stream down my cheeks, my heart may race, my hand tremble,

Deep down I feel the presence that I crave.

I feel the presence of a Great lover,

It is no lover like I have ever experienced,

It is not a connection of two bodies,

It is not material, physical or superficial.

It is the penetration of my soul.

It is the lover who has always carried me over the thresholds of my existence.

Lifetime after lifetime, this lover is with me.

This lover never leaves me.

This lover is forever f*cking me wide open,

Deeper, softer, harder, longer.

This lover knows me inside and out and devours me.

Drinks in my orgasm as his own.

The rapture he offers me is more than I can share in words.

It is more than my physical body can take in.

It is bliss.

Yes, faith.

All we need is the faith of a mustard seed.

And we can open to a level of our soul,

Revealed in the arms of the greatest lover of our lives.

We can drop our guards and we can surrender.

Here, here is our life.

Our true life.

Sadness.

Joy.

Amazement.

Surrender.

I shudder at the thought of the release.

Where will I go from here?

Whom will I become?

 

 

It is up to me whom I become.

With every breath I breathe me in a little more.

With every stroke of my great lover, I feel me a little bit more.

With every, gaze into the greatness of this life, I see my life unfold.

And I smile.

I smile at the mystery,

At the joy,

At the lessons,

At the tears,

At the rapture.

Open.

Trusting and full of faith.

I am no longer being carried,

I am flying.

Wings open wide.

And you can too.

 

Remember,

Stop Existing & Start Living

www.kendalwilliams.com

Praying for Demon’s

This is a hymn for the one’s who have no closure.

His arms around my throat, commanding me to stop.
Stealing my joy.
Stealing my heart.
Killing me softly as the song states.
Killing our love.
Killing our relationship.
Killing our goals, our dreams, our partnership.

He looks at me with rage in his eye’s.
He looks at me through a demon’s face.
There is no love here anymore.
That is clear.

Broken, battered and abused.
My truth of his emotional abuse is before me,
with his hands around my throat.
He makes his feelings known.
He hates me.
He is throwing me away.
He is done with me and all that we built.

He is not a man with heart.
He is not man of integrity.
He is not a man who know’s how to love or be loved.

He is a coward.
A coward hiding behind his aggression.
Hiding behind his need to control.
Hiding behind his drink.
Hiding behind his blame.

He is not a man,
He is a victim to his ego.
A victim to the demons.

He feels in the right.
He feel’s that I had it coming.
He feel’s only his hatred to himself and mistakes it for me.
He feel’s only his fear of seeing his demon’s.
He want’s to hide.

And so he wants me to STOP.

He wants my voice to be muted.
He wants to delete the presence of truth from his life.
He wants it all to go away because he is not a man who can handle being a man.
No , he is a prisoner to his illusions.
He is a victim to his patterns.
He claims he wants more,
to be more.
To be the man that honors life.
Honors spirit.
Honors his woman.
Knows himself.

But he is too scared.
He is nothing more than a little boy begging to be nurtured,
begging to be seen.
Begging for attention.
demanding his will.
He stamps his feet, screams his violent screams.
He wants nothing more than to be seen.

But he cannot have what he wants.
He is NOT willing to see himself.
He has no integrity.
He is a victim,
a prisoner to his demons.

So he go’s further.
He chokes harder.
He is not feeling the release he desires.
He is not feeling like he has conquered her yet.
She is still breathing.
She is still speaking.
She is still standing there,

Being his integrity.
Forcing him to see himself.

And he hates himself.

He hates his life.
He is scared to see his truth.
He feels so unworthy.

There is no happiness in his soul.
He is lost.
He is hiding.
He has become his demon’s.

Casting her and the children out of his life,
It is easier to force her to leave and ignore the pain,
Ignore his truth,
Ignore his actions.
His heart.

He does not speak of the events of the day.
He buries them deep into the basement of his being,
next to the pain of his loss of others.
He does not speak of his pain of the love’s he lost.
The loss of his sister,
the loss of his mother,
the loss of his first love,
the loss of his wives that came after.
And he will not speak of this loss either.

These women.
This crazy feminine with its heart and emotions.
It only abandons him.
It only runs from him.
Cheats on him.
dies on him.
Leaves him.
It is not worth his pain.
It is not worth his opening.
It is not worth his healing.

No. He just wants it to STOP.
So he holds my neck with tension.
He looks at me through eye’s of demons.
The darkness that resides here,
he has settled into.

He is coiled in his corner.
He is fearful of his future.
He is terrified of his heart.
of her heart.
Of the EMOTION.

So he closes.
He shuts himself down and he chooses to only open up to the demon.
The demon that has him hiding.
The demon that has him leaning on the shoulder of the immoral, the trustworthy, the one’s who are addicted to their darkness and masks.

he pulls from those who he knows he cannot trust.
He leans into those who are happy for his return.
They greet him with open arms,
He is settling for his demon’s.
He is settling for so much that he is not.
He is a victim to his fears.
He sacrifices himself.

And points his fingers at me.
He know’s the truth.
But he must hide.
Because standing in integrity is to much to bare.
That would mean that he would have to FEEL.

He would be to vulnerable.
And his ego will not allow it.

No , he is a prisoner to his illusions.
He is a victim to his patterns.
He claims he wants more,
to be more.
To be the man that honors life.
Honors spirit.
Honors his woman.
Knows himself.

But he chooses his demon’s.
He chooses those that kneel before the alter of darkness.
The alter of lies,
the alter of fears,
the alter of casting blame.
He chooses to be the victim of his hatred.

So he does not speak of these events.
He does not allow space for truth.
He slams the door to love.
He closes himself from spirit.
He flips off God and he turns to his demons.

They lift a glass in celebration of the reaping of his soul.
There is no closure,
There is only hiding.

And so,
this is a hymn for the one’s who have no closure.
No matter how desperately needed.
No matter, the desire to understand.
No matter, the longing to heal and love again.
No matter, the case that be.

This is a hymn for the one’s who have suffered at the hand of their lovers.
This is a hymn for the one’s who blamed themselves for the violence that fell on their flesh, on their hearts, on their lives.
This is a hymn for the one’s who cried.
Who needed to be heard and were told to stop.
Who were cracked open physically, emotionally.
This is for you.

I feel your pain.
I see your fear.
I hear your cries.
I feel your abandonment.

This is a hymn for the one’s who never got closure.
Who cannot understand how love can turn so violent.
How sweet tender caresses can end in rage.
Who weep and feel shame.

This is for all of us who have suffered at the hand of our lovers.

And so we pray.
We pray for those that told us that we were nothing without them.
We pray for those who said we could make it on our own.
We pray for those who cannot feel love.
We pray that find their peace.
We pray that they face their demon’s.
We pray that they are somewhere,
On their knees,
Changing.

Stop Surviving- Start Living

Are you just surviving? Are you hiding from your truth?
Are you deeply hurt, scared and lost? 
Join Kendal TODAY for a F*ck Yes Life experience. Limited time access to 1:1 coaching and online coaching programs to help you master your FREEDOM based life NOW.

siSTAR Tribe- Heal Thy Selves

As a woman you would think it easy for me to be open and vulnerable, trusting even of the feminine. Of other women. That sisterhood would just come naturally and easily.

As a woman who is a mother of 7 souls, three of which are daughters and spends her day’s reaching out into the world and helping other women, other people and sharing of herself as vulnerably as I can in any given moment. That female connection and understanding would just be a reality. A norm for me.

The truth is though that I have had a lifetime of shut down around the feminine. Around trusting the feminine. Trusting my fellow sisters. Just calling other women my sisters causes a nagging nausea in my gut. It rises up an uncertainty of if I can trust women. If I can lean in here.

Do I even want to?

My wounds with the feminine stem back to my early childhood where my mother would talk radically negative about my father to me on hour long walks with our German Shepard and myself. She would tell me how awful my dad was. How she wanted out of the relationship. She would dream of finding a suitcase full of money on our walk and escaping life with him. She wanted to run away from him. She wanted her freedom but at the cost of choosing daily to stay settled and just bitch to 5 year old me on our evening walk about it.

Then came her co-dependent nature. Always attached at my hip, like an infant to it’s mother. It seemed often like I was the mother. She could not make a move without my support.

Then came her crazy ass stories of her past, where she shared all too much with me about how she manipulated this or that.

How she was wounded from WWII and the bombings.
How she was angry at her father for being killed during the war when she was eight.
How she was angry with her mother for doing the things that she had to at that point to survive and support two little girls.
She told me about her abuse in her first marriage.
She tried to teach me how to steal from stores.
How to lie well and hold my poker face.
She showed me how to disconnect from my heart and SURVIVE.
She taught me that women are not to be trusted.
She taught me that women manipulate.

She told me that I was different though.
That I could walk on water.
But I was her air.
So don’t run away.
Don’t abandon her.

Then came school. My girl friends once made would randomly choose to no longer be my friends. They would make up stories, would gossip if I shared anything vulnerable. They would steal my clothes, cheat off my tests and then point the finger back at me.

But I craved friendship.
I craved sisterhood.
I craved to be one of the girls.
I craved to fit in.

Then came high school. I chose to go to a high school that was actually not in my district so that I could remain with my best friends. They were a grade ahead of me, but we were besties and they WANTED me to come to that school. It was going to be great. Until school started that was.

Now they were too busy for me. They had boyfriends. Sisterhood no longer mattered. It was every girl for herself.
And lord help me if one of their guys spoke or looked at me.

Now I was a threat.
Now I was the enemy.

Ice cream hurdled across the hallway, hitting my brand new leather jacket.
Laughter ringing out.
The call of “You Slut!” from the mouth of my once best friend. The girl who wept her tears of pain when her parents divorced into my arms. The girl who we “twinned” once a week together and sunbathed on the roof of her house every summer day we could grab together.

The girl who begged me to come to this school.
It was going to be great.
We were besties.
We had each others back.

Yes here, here is where it all started.
Repeatedly I witnessed the whirlwind of emotional instability from the feminine.
Repeatedly I was daggered by my sisters as though I was a vampire out to steal their lives.
Repeatedly I was wounded, shamed, disowned by the feminine.
I was lied too.
I was lied about.

My besties, my sisters had been taken over by the mean girl syndrome.

But we were young.
We were just children still.
Things would change once I was an adult.

Women don’t act like this.
Women know how to support each other.
Women understand the pains of our adolescent years and we overcome them and heal. We rise about the mean girl syndrome and we become radiant, supportive siSTARS.

Right?

Then came my adult years.
I shut down in my twenties. I kept my friendships limited. I kept my heart limited. I focused on my family. My children. My husband. My life. My education.

The things I felt I could control.
I had a siSTAR in my life. She was amazing. Supportive. Trustworthy. She had my back. I was certain.

And I was right.
She still today, even with miles apart, years between. Words rarely shared has my back and I have her’s. There is no doubt in my mind or heart that I could call her at 2AM from anywhere in this world and cry on her shoulder, ask to stay the night, and I would do the same for her.

She is my soul siSTAR.
She is a rare light.
25 years of friendship proves this.

Then came my 30’s. I was eager, hungry and full of desire. I wanted to take on the world. I wanted to expand. I wanted to meet myself and I wanted a sisterhood. I entered the state of Texas with a mission to have just this. ALL OF THIS.

And so I did.
Or so I thought.

Quickly I had a large group of feminine support. This was my tribe. These were my sisters. We were all mom’s, we lived close to each other. We enjoyed similar things. We celebrated life weekly together. It was amazing.

The laughter.
The tears.
The sharing.
The holding space for each other when shit went down with our spouses or kids.
The sharing of our fears and our desires.
This was sisterhood.

Then came the day that my dear friend said, “You know what you did. We can’t be friends anymore.”

And with her went the whole tribe.
Poof!
Gone in a second.
And for what?

Still to this day, almost 10 years later I have no certain closure on this.

Accusations made while I was away on summer holiday with my family. Lies told. Stories conjured. Truth lost. Friendship lost.

Told I was guilty.
Told I was a slut.
Told I was horrible.
Told I was not fit to be in the tribe.

Abandoned by my sisters and never offered a space to speak my truth. To get answers. To set things right.

Mean girls knocking at my door again.
Statements made on social media.
Accusations and allegations of false truths.
Lord help me.

So I shut down.
I closed myself off and I isolated myself from the feminine.
I opened and did my work around the masculine.
I danced and blossomed with the help of the great men who stepped up in my life. Who held space for me.
I stepped into my goddess-hood.
Claiming I did not need the feminine.
It was not to be trusted.
It disliked me.
It hated me.
I was alone.
There was no sisterhood for me.

All but one siSTAR.
Who still remains after 10 years of friendship.
My Hawaiian goddess siSTAR. Who holds space, who laughs and shares her wisdom in times needed. Who shares her pain, her fear and tears. Her joy, her dreams, her spirit with me. Yes she has my back. This I know. This I am certain.
She is a rare light.

The masculine.
It holds me.
It adores me.
It craves me.
It eats me up and helps me to fly.

It scorns me.
It scares me.
It bruises my being.
It rips my heart out like a ravenous beast.
It breaks my body and stomps on my boundaries then blames me for being a woman.

The masculine.
I love the masculine.
I hate the masculine.

I need the feminine.
I crave my sisters.
I crave the support.
I hunger for the light.
I want to be seen as a woman and understood.
Seen that my crazy girl moments are normal.
I want to cry and not be fixed.
And just be okay.

In steps my siSTAR.
She is a rare light.

She supports me by just being.
She see’s my pain and she wants to fight for my hearts pain.
She stands firm in the wake of my storm and she casts a line to help me find harmony once again.
She uproots her whole life,
She turns herself inside out,
She shares her fears,
Her pain,
She holds space when she is not even trying.
She is a rare light indeed.
She is a Goddess.
She has my back and I have her’s.
This I am certain.

This is what friends do for friends, she says.
This is not what I am accustom too.
She and my fellow siSTARS through the last 25 years,
though they may be few,
they are strong,
they are Mother F*cking Goddesses.

They aim to heal them selves.
They aim to heal other’s.
They are kindred souls.
They are true siSTARS.

This is the relationships that I crave with my fellow women.
This is my tribe of goddesses.
This is my healing of wounds from my youth and wounds from theirs.
This is our life path.
This is SiSTARHOOD.

Embracing the fierceness of sisterhood.
Today.
Tomorrow.
And ALWAYS.

Healing the feminine.
By allowing myself to be healed by the feminine.

Remember my fellow siSTAR Goddess,
You are worthy.
You are a rare light.
You are loved.
You are a Mother F*cking Goddess.

Always,
Stop Existing- Start Living

Are you a woman that feel’s scorned? Hurt? Scared to step into her Mother F*cking Goddess Power? 
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Orgasm Blame Game by Guest Author Addison Bell

It’s early evening when I receive the text, and I am relaxing outside and trying to get some work done. I see the name, and I am immediately intrigued because it is rare these days that I see this name on my phone screen. He wants to come over for a little while, and I know that he has plans beyond just chatting. I sit, staring at my phone for a few minutes, pondering my options. On the one hand, I know that I really need and desire some focused attention. On the other hand, I have some major emotional blocks with him right now and am still holding a traumatic event in my body. I have the choice to lean into the vulnerable here or to shut down and completely shut him out. I finally decide to step into vulnerability and see if I can allow my own opening with his help.

The evening begins alright, and he is even a little playful in our initial banter back and forth. Though he only spends a short amount of time focused solely on me and during this brief stint continues to tell me to relax. As soon as he enters me, we begin to fight as he starts to tell me that it’s my fault I’m not orgasming. He yells at me that I’m in my head. That I need to try this fantasy or that fantasy. My emotions rise as he blames me for the lack of feeling, lack of pleasure, lack of connection at the moment. The second I mention that I’m struggling due to past events… he shuts down, throws himself backward and asks for a blow job. He’s given up on me. If I can’t throw my feelings, trauma, and body away to play the part, then he isn’t going to waste his time on me. He wants me to be a microwaveable porn star. And once again, I feel more trauma and hold back. I’m pissed! I leaned in here, and now I’m angry with myself because I feel like I should’ve known better. I’m left feeling more disconnected, used, and in the end, broken as I welcome my Ego in to play for a little while.

Is my orgasm my responsibility? Yes. It is my job to connect with my body. To push past the blockages and truly feel into things. A woman that is unwilling to allow her orgasm will not be able to get to that place of bliss she is desiring and that is imperative for her body as a whole. Though a woman also needs a man’s presence and his ability to hold space. She can’t do it by herself. A woman requires focused attention, time, and understanding of her process.

We don’t surrender to that needed physical level all by ourselves. We need the strong masculine to hold space.

Fighting with your woman in the middle of sex about her lack of orgasm is not holding space. Telling your woman that it is her fault that she isn’t able to orgasm isn’t going to get to the bottom of any orgasm dilemmas. In all honesty, this type of energy, questioning, and blaming will only consistently move your woman further and further from tapping into her orgasm and continue to drive a wedge into the relationship.

Men, if your woman isn’t orgasming, then you need to be looking at yourself in the mirror. I know this could be a hard statement to swallow, but it’s true. That’s not saying you need to blame yourself, but you do need to look at how you are approaching your woman, the truth of the relationship dynamics, and if you are truly giving her the time and space to work into her true feminine energy and allowing this flow. Are you able and willing to have the hard emotional conversations to step into the difficulties in the relationship, and if that is not the problem, then can you hold space while your woman is doing her own work to really tap in? Sometimes, even more importantly, are you listening?

In the above scenario, I was telling my lover that I was not interested in several fantasies that he was presenting to me. He chose to instead fight with me about his perception of my arousal and that I was denying myself instead of listening to my consistent verbalizations over several different experiences. I was sharing from my heart that although I love adventure and play in my sexing that, right now, in the current living space, that I needed a very simple and straightforward connection in my sexing. My lover refused to acknowledge again and again the fact that it was the relationship and severe boundary crossing that was causing my hold back. He didn’t want to hear it, to step into the emotion, and instead chose to shut down. FYI, this is not the divine masculine at work… these types of reactions are the reactions of a man that never grew into his manhood. If you are a man, are you doing any of these things with your relationship?

In my practice, I strive to have guys tap into their divine masculine because, then, they will be able to tap deeper into themselves, but also deeper into their woman. As soon as you can tap deeper into your woman, then she can then guide you to a thus even deeper level of yourself that only comes from the divine feminine.

What needs to be understood about female orgasm is that if she does not feel safe emotionally and physically, then she isn’t going to open up. You may think your woman feels safe physically, but physical safety goes deeper than most people think. Have you ever entered her prematurely and caused pain? Have you ever not listened to her safe word? Have you ever used her pussy as Prozac? Then there could be some physical trust that needs to be worked on because if any of the above has happened, then a woman needs to re-learn physical safety in your lovemaking.

From an emotional safety perspective, your woman needs to feel she is able to open up in and out of the bedroom without fearing your reaction… this includes the reaction of complete shutdown. A shutdown man is just as emotionally traumatizing to a woman as a man that is screaming in rage. It is not safe! Emotional safety in the bedroom is allowing her to have her experience and express her experience. It is not you telling her what her experience is… that is actually manipulation and going to create emotional detachment in the relationship and possibly within herself.

Want a woman to lose connection to her orgasm? Continually tell her she is experiencing something she is not or that her perception of her experience is wrong. Again, we come back to listen to your woman. Inquiry is one thing, but let’s remember gentlemen that you have no idea what she is experiencing. You cannot tell another human being what is happening in their mind or body.

Although it is her responsibility to lean into her orgasm, and to do her personal work, it is YOUR responsibility to earn her orgasm. Earn her by being trustworthy, supportive, and emotionally present. It is not a blame game! It is a connection and opening game that must be played TOGETHER!

If you are a woman and want to learn to step deeper into your orgasm then check out the life-changing Instantly Orgasmic Woman Recorded Global Workshop to increase your pleasure, connection, and BLISS!

3 Men Showed Up.

Arms open wide.
His arms, so open.
So supportive.
So full love.
Of acceptance.
 
I welcomed his embrace with my whole heart and soul.
Needing to be held.
To be carried in this moment.
Needing his witnessing of my soul.
My heart.
My pain.
My fear.
My love.
My gratitude.
 
There we were, a moment that happens often in our relationship. Saying good bye at a car door in a parking lot. Embracing each other with love. With a tender holding of friendship. Of authentic connection.
 
Today was different though.
Today I was breaking in the wake of my life.
I was washed over by the storm of my life and I did not have the strength to hold space for myself.
 
Today, I needed his strength.
I needed the witnessing and loving support of the divine masculine to hold me.
 
A fatherly love.
A lovers love.
A deep friendship of years.
A kindred spirit.
 
I needed to feel God come through him and hold me. Assure me that I was going to not just be fine, but be able to fly again.
 

And here he was.

I love the way he showed up.

 
Present attention.
His inquiry was deep but open.
So understanding.
So empathetic. Compassionate.
Full of love.
 
Soft were his words.
Connective were his communications.
2000 miles may have separated us, but he was there holding my hand. Holding my heart. Sharing his.
 
Months had passed since we saw each other and spoke last, yet these two hours on the phone felt like no time had passed. There was zero distance between our beings.
 
It was perfect.
He was perfect.
His holding and witnessing made him so.
 
I had been able to gift him with this holding in years past, now he was offering it to me and sharing his tales and lessons equally. Together we rose. Together we embraced life in this moment.
 
Our pain.
Our broken hearts.
Our misunderstandings and uncertainty.
Our joy.
Our faith.
 
A fellow soul crusader’s empathy and love.
A lovers love.
A friendship of years.
A kindred spirit.
 
I needed to hear his lessons of love and compassion. I needed his truth in this moment. It supported my own. His words encouraged both of us. God was speaking through him. His statement of, ” I answer to something higher than the law of humankind.”
 
Yes. I too answer to this.
I too align to this.
Our laws of ego and shut down hearts are not my truth.
I needed to hear this. I needed him to assure me that I was not broken. That I would fly again.
 

And here he was.

I loved the way he showed up.

 
His smile.
His embrace.
He walked through the door and just smiled that smile.
He embraced me from behind while I cooked dinner.
Kissing my neck.
Telling me sweet everything’s.
 
Those words.
His arms open wide.
His heart beat assuring me.
His presence witnessing me.
The tears I had cried before, in the parking lot, on the phone. He could see their residue left from my mascara on my cheeks.
He could see my exhaustion.
My fear. My concern.
 
His holding. He shared his breath with me through a kiss.
He assured me that I could fly with his smile.
He cradled my heart as it wept with his presence.
He cradled my aching body with his strength, his warmth.
 
Silence.
Presence.
Love.
 
It was ours.
These were our tales.
This was our truth.
Our moment.
The only moment.
 
A fellow seeker of truth and healing.
A lovers love.
A new friendship.
A kindred spirit.
 
The look in his eye’s. The smile on his face. The laughter he brought into the moment. His light. Telling me that I could have it all. Telling me that I was strong. That I was a mother f*cking Goddess! Telling me that I was radiant. Telling me that I was needed and mattered. Assuring me that I could fly.
 

And here he was.

I loved the way he showed up.

 
This was my day yesterday.
These three gentlemen assuring me,
each in their own way that I could fly.
Each sharing their hearts.
Their love.
Their presence.
 
Helping to heal me.
And I helping to heal them.
Through authenticity and truth.
Through unconditional love and the offering of our presence and witnessing for each other.
 
Here is the dance of the divine masculine and feminine in it’s beauty. Here is the ying and the yang.
 
These three men in less than 24 hours have done more toward the healing of my heart and soul than I can ever communicate in my written words.
 
My gratitude for their love, support, compassion, empathy, connection, guidance, strength, and PRESENCE goes beyond words or actions to be shared.
 
All I can offer in return-
Is my heart and my wings.
 
Thank you for being the wind beneath my wings.
For carrying me to a new space.
Thank you for helping me take a step in restoring my faith in the masculine. In men.
 

Thank you.

 
This is my share today.
It is a share of compassion. Vulnerability and gratitude.
It a share of the great masculine and how it can when it chooses, hold space for the feminine and love her through her storms and messy emotions.
 
This is a share to show all men out there,
 
Thank you to these three men who chose in one day to gift me with their presence and hearts.
 

A remember,

Always –

Stop Existing – Start Living

Join Kendal TODAY for a F*ck Yes Life experience. Limited time access to 1:1 coaching and online coaching programs to help you master your FREEDOM based life NOW.

God Bless My Ego.

It is one of those days.
One of those days where I find myself wrapped in a cover of doubt. Fear. Overwhelm. Exhaustion.

Uncertainty knocking at my door,
Screaming at me that I will fail.

Screaming at me that there is no f*cking way that I can do this.
Can have this.
Can be this.

My ego parading around in my head taking front row center stage, announcing its victory of kicking me while it perceives I should be down.

It woke me numerous times last night to tell me how shitty I was. To share with me its concerns and fears. To announce to me how everything that I wanted I could not have and how I was not good enough to have it.

My ego.
God bless my ego.

Standing in the shower just moments ago, I found myself being taken on another ego trip.

Feeling like I was scrooge being drug through my life of what had happened, what was happening and what would be.

My ego painted nothing but the most gloomy of pictures.
Assuring me that this was sure to happen.

Telling me that my life would NEVER be what I wanted.
I was for certain not to be HAPPY.
Not to find true LOVE.
Not to HEAL.
Physically or emotionally.
Not to LIVE UNBOUND, full and free.
Telling me that the F*ck Yes! Life that I prescribe too,
PREACH about,
and have been living,
was all a figment of my imagination.

My ego.
God Bless my ego.

Yes it shared with me that ADVENTURE was gone for this lifetime. Only work, work, and more work was in my future.

Yes it shared with me that PLAY was not to be had. Instead it is time to put on my BIG GIRL pants and get serious and STOP desiring play, fun, joy, and bliss.

Yes it shared with me that LOVE was nothing to desire. It does not exist. No one will ever love me. Will ever honor me. Will ever hold space for me. Will ever see me. No, this man does not exist. My SOUL MATCH does not exist. He is a figment of my imagination. I will have to just SETTLE for meeting fragments of him in other men and make due with what I get.

Yes my ego shared that I was stupid.
That I was unhealthy.
That my body now was f*cked up and ugly.
That I looked old, tired, worn out and should just settle for the reality that my light had been squished.

My wings clipped.
Yes it shared that my words, my truth, my message was unwanted and not needed. That it to was stupid, not good enough and silly.

My ego. 
God Bless my ego.

This morning my ego has had a Raging Dance Party in my psyche.

It has been shacking its booty in my face,
Rubbing itself up and down my sides like a horny, drunk person.
It has been pointing its fingers and laughing at my dreams and desires.
It has been taunting me, seducing me and scaring me.

It has been lude, crude and tempting.
It makes its case like the best attorney in court.
Showing evidence of my lack of worthiness.
My lack of FAITH.

Showing me how BAD I have been in life and how I deserve to FAIL.

Yes, my ego.
God Bless my ego.

And F*CK MY EGO!!!!

I watch it dance before me. I hear its serenade.

The reality.
MY REALITY.

Is that a life of EGO is NO LIFE AT ALL.

I know the wolf that is underneath that cloak.
It hungers for my life.
It craves to steal my breath.
It craves to steal my LIGHT.
It tells me my wings are clipped when in FACT my wings are stretched out so far I cannot see their tips.
It tells me I cannot FLY.
That God will not carry me.

My SOUL KNOWS different.
My HEART is CERTAIN of different.

I do not have to look far to SEE the TRUTH.
My TRUTH.

My TRUTH, that is all around me.
Comes through my words.
Through my messages.
Through my energy.
Through the light in my eye’s.

My TRUTH,
that comes through the messages that my TRIBE shares with me.
The vulnerability of not just my expression but that of those I connect with, share with and hold space for.

Yes, my truth.
God Bless my truth.

I will NEVER STOP.
DREAMING.
SHARING.
LIVING.
BELIEVING.

I will NEVER STOP.
LOVING.
OFFERING.
OPENING.
BEING ME.

The ego will try and strip us of our life.
It will try and scare us into submission.
It has tactics that make us feel like we should do this or that.
It will tell us how to be a good person.
It will tell us this is what God wants from you.
It will make us prideful and strip us of our pride all in the same sentence.

None of which is coming from God or our soul.

No.
F*ck the EGO and it’s satanic ways of making us fear LIVING.

F*ck the EGO for attempting to steal our lives and dreams.

Our desires.
Our TRUTH.

I don’t know about you,
But I can tell you that I for one REFUSE to let the EGO LIVE MY LIFE.

This life is mine to live.
This breath is mine to breathe.
This heart is mine to share.

I am Claiming My Life.
Will You Claim Your’s?

Remember,
Stop Existing – Start Living

Join Kendal TODAY for a F*ck Yes Life experience. Limited time access to 1:1 coaching and online coaching programs to help you master your FREEDOM based life NOW.

Hell Hath No Fury.

Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned.

 
Or so the saying goes.
The past month of my life has forced me to step into a fury that I did not know existed to the level that it does. One event opening up the wounds to another. And that event opening up the wounds to another and another and another.
 
At first I sat with the events after they happened and was simply shocked.
Bewildered and lost.
 
Then I shut myself to the emotions that were coming up.
Then I opened.
Then I shut myself down again because under the emotions and the physical sensations of pain, fear and worry,
I discovered something much darker.
 
The darkness of a ghost that had been lingering in my midst for my life.
The darkness of a fear that I had been dancing with forever.
The darkness of my heart.
 
I found myself dancing with the feeling of being a victim and not wanting to be one, yet not being able escape the reality of what had happened and the knowing that in this moment, in this timeline, I was a
 
VICTIM.
 
I hate the word victim.
I don’t believe in being a victim.
I believe that no matter the situation that we are all spiritual volunteers here playing out our lessons in life. Expanding and evolving.
 
Evolving through pain.
Evolving through love.
Yet still evolving.
 
So to sit with the reality that I was a victim in this moment was something that hurt me to a point of rage in my emotions.
 
I am not a victim.
I am a strong mother F*cking Goddess!
I am the co-creator of my world.
I am a f*cking manifestor that creates her world with power, certainty and direction through my heart and by the guidance of God and my soul link.
 

I am not a victim damn it.

 
But yet, here I sit with the reality that in this part of my current time line,
 
Physically,
at very least I am just that ,
that I do not prescribe too.
 
A Victim.
 
And f*ck it hurts and is scary and shit to admit that yes,
I too could be feeling this fear.
Feeling this loss of the life that I new.
Feeling the uncertainty of the steps that I must take.
 
Yes, here I am, still feeling like somehow I deserved this.
I made it happen.
If I had not only done this or that.
Then surly things would not have escalated to the level that they did and I would not be physically hurt and broken.
That I would not be emotionally worn out and lost.
That my faith and trust in relationship would still be strong.
That what I believed or thought I knew as truth would still remain in tact and that my world would remain all that it had potential of being.
 
Yes certainly I must be at fault for all that has occurred.
Yes certainly I must have been the culprit of this disaster.
I was not good enough.
I was too much.
I wanted to much.
I cared to deep.
I spoke to much of my truth.
I should have coward in the face of the danger instead of standing to face it.
I should have just shut up and got in my place.
 
After all,
I am just a woman.
 
Who am I to think anything other than the reality that I am just a woman.
 
It is a man’s world.
He’s the boss.
It is his house.
His car.
His world.
His right.
 
His right to command.
To command me.
To command how things go.
To command my actions.
My thoughts.
My feelings.
My words.
 
If I had just not spoke.
If I had just not inquired.
If I had just not followed.
If I had just let it be.
If I had just been a good woman,
and did what I was told.
 
Told…
 
Yes told.
 

“You will STOP!”

 
He wanted me to stop,
he wanted me to be quiet,
he wanted me to not inquire,
follow,
speak my truth,
stand up for my child,
for myself.
He wanted me gone.
He wanted me deleted from his life.
He wanted me to STOP.
 
If I had just listened.
 
I am not a victim.
I am a mother F*cking Goddess!!!!
Goddesses are not commanded to STOP.
To not speak their hearts.
Their truth.
To break in the face of danger.
To run in the face of danger.
To feel shame about their humanness,
their love,
who they are or anything else.
 
Goddesses do not abandon their children when danger is present.
Goddesses do not fear the outcome.
They command the outcome.
The outcome is one that is ALWAYS one,
one that in the long run supports the beauty,
the love,
the truth,
the heart,
the soul, the power of God that moves through each of us.
 
He fell in love with the Goddess,
but he wanted to tame her.
He wanted to own her.
He wanted to control her.
To shut her up and be her ruler.
 
Goddesses only have one ruler.
The Great Divine.
The Almighty.
Lord.
God.
Creator of All.
That is the only ruler of a Goddess.
And we are lead by our hearts.
 
Those hearts lead us to follow when we see our lover is in pain.
When we see our child is hurt.
When we know we are not being heard, seen or felt,
Those hearts lead us to speak up not become quiet.
 
And certainly not become quiet because we are commanded too.
 

F*ck That!

 
Hell hath no fury like a Goddess scorned.
That is how the statement should go.
 
But he,
he is the lucky one.
He scorned a Goddess,
a woman who know’s who she is,
who is not afraid to speak out,
to be vulnerable,
to forgive but not forget,
 
he is the lucky one.
Because in his actions she FINALLY witnessed his truth.
 
And he may not be strong enough to see it but she is.
She see’s his pain,
his fear,
his lack of truth,
his lies not just to her,
but to himself.
 
She see’s how deeply he is hurting,
his feeling of not being worthy,
his discomfort with integrity.
 
She see’s his shame and how he hopes to shame her.
 
She see’s him.
She see’s herself.
 
Yes.
 
I am not a victim.
I am a F*cking Goddess.
 
No matter what the experience, I KNOW that God has my back.
No matter what the result I know that I am the co-creator of my reality.
No matter what the feelings, or the physical challenges that are upon me, I know that I
 
 
People come into our lives.
They serve their purpose as we do in theirs.
We often feel betrayed, hurt, scorned and victimized.
This is all part of our path.
 
Our evolution.
 
But even in evolution we get to choose,
choose our reactions,
which lead us to the next phase of our own personal reawakening.
 
We get to choose how we evolve.
Every action has a reaction.
 
We choose what those are.
We have conscious thought.
That conscious thought can trump our ego and our core beliefs if we want it to.
We can decided.
 
NOW.
In this moment,
To love fully.
To heal quickly.
To not break.
To expand.
To express.
To be vulnerable.
To be worthy.
 
To COMMAND our life to be the life that manifests our dreams.
 
I may be a victim in the essence of the physical and emotional abuse that I have experienced in the last short bit of time,
 
But I am NOT a victim to life.

 

I am a mother F*cking Goddess!!!

 
I may be scorned,
and scorned deeply from multiple sources,
 
But I am not a victim,
because I KNOW
I know I get to choose my outcome.
 
My path.
My reaction.
I know that God has my back.
 
And I surrender my heart to that.
 

What do you choose?

 

And remember,

Stop Existing & Start Living

Are you a woman that feel’s scorned? Hurt? Scared to step into her Mother F*cking Goddess Power? 
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