Reclaiming Her “Too Much”
She knows when it’s time to be alone.
Not in loneliness, but in sacred solitude.
It’s a returning to hear and to be guided.
The contraction before the expansion.
The gathering of micro-soul injuries from naïveté.
She dives headfirst into the earth as a sovereign being, breaking through her initiation roots.
Feral and liberated with hope, she ravenously claws her paws into the luscious life-giving soil.
She takes back her “too much.”
It’s hers.
I am.
I am.
I am.
SHE COMMANDS.
Able to witness the horror of her captured feminine.
She’s home.
Her home.
Her soul home.
All that was used to lure her creative light, missing the backbone of reverence, is seen for what it is, not what she wished it to be.
She invites it in.
She can face it.
She can hold it.
The roots know that they can have life after death.
Willingly reverse engineering her life.
She faces it.
This time, she is creating it.
For her.
Not for service.
Not to be a “good girl.”
No.
She’s wild, but wise.
She will not die for you.
That is for her only.
And she’ll do it as many times as it takes to be fully alive.
So yes, she needs to be alone, to be home.
She knows when.
And she will gladly be “too much” each time she does.
