I know it’s easy to forget—to buy into the shiny emptiness of what society says we should be…
And feel out of sorts, out of place, unattractive
Too much and not enough at the same time
You’re breathtaking, my dear woman.
It is written in how deeply you feel
And how brightly you burn
When you remember who you are.
Because you are the earth, lush and wild,
You are the expanded lap of the universe.
Why do you make yourself small
And bite-sized for him?
Why do you twist, and turn, and shave yourself down,
And pray that he’ll notice?
Why do you try and try
To earn his love?
You are the explosion of a nebula and the nectar kiss of an ancient sex goddess.
You are the treasure, the truth, the freshness, the medicine.
You are the depth, the roaring, the promise of springtime in a single bud.
You are the messiness, the complete and utter soul-dripping perfection.
Stop wallowing in the arms of a half-assed love that’s long wilted.
Dab roses on your wrists, and scent your hair with frankincense and cinnamon.
And be ready
For the man who laps up your complexities like they’re the marbled tips of the Milky Way.
Be ready for the man who loves your fire
And fans your wildness with his hot breath as he kisses you all over.
Be ready for the man who isn’t blinded by your light,
But honored, humbled, and inspired
That a woman could be brave enough
To burn so brightly.
Be ready for the man who isn’t scared of your fierceness,
That you have claws
And know how to use them.
That you know what you like
And don’t like.
What you need
And don’t need.
Be ready for the man who adores the tender aches etched in the delicate pages of your glorious heart,
The chapters and shadows that you once disowned
Because you thought they were ugly…
He’ll love those too.
He’ll hold ‘em close
And tuck his fingers into your tenderst corners
With a touch that tastes of cherries and whispers to the deepest places
And heals you
Because he is able to surrender his armor
To the jeweled palace
Of your unbroken femininity.
Be ready for the man who is exhilarated
To see you
Peeling your layers back
And coming back to life
Never, ever succumbing
To a life of stagnation
Or slow decay
But constant radiance, wonder, soul
And the catapulted confidence of a priestess shooting out of the dirt in springtime.
Be ready for the man who does not tremble
When you cry and feel deeply
When you free fire-breathing dragons from the base of your spine…
When truth falls like lush rubies from the skies of your supple lips,
He’ll hold space for you—
Lapping up your passionate expressiveness like the grass when it rains
Elated and thirsty
To taste the honeyed drops that fall like dew with every word you speak.
He’ll see you
All of you
The whole you
For the incredible blessing you are.
He won’t need you to be small.
He’ll just need you to be yourself—
Grand, glittering, real, raw, vulnerable, deep…
Messy, tender, strong, and just completely fantastic.
Be ready for him—
Who isn’t blinded
By your light
But encouraged by it
Moved by it…
The ancient energy
That erupts inside
It bubbles and shimmies like an earthquake
A sight so exquisite it punctures down to the bone
And brings him to his knees in the sweetest way
Because—you’re anything but small.
You are the grass, the hope, the roots, the sun, the healing, the death that begins new life.
You are a woman.
You are the medicine.
So stand up—
There is no need to crawl and beg for love
To bend and twist
And long for approval
From a man who can’t see you,
Who can’t show up for you,
Even on his best day.
The eyes of his heart are closed, sewn shut,
And you can’t open ‘em.
And don’t wait, like those annoying “rules” say we should.
Wave the wand of your heart
And carve your dreams out of the sh*t
Into beautiful stones of reality
And be ready
Who will be dazzled
By the way the moon moves in your smile
By the way you squeeze the pain and make it into art
By the way you live and breathe in the deep, blue seas of authenticity
With all the power that’s yours naturally
When you stand
And don’t hustle for love
And know how worthy you are, inherently
Be ready for the man
Who can embrace
All of you
Every so-called mistake.
But you need to embrace yourself first.
And in that sublime basking on your sacred temple shores
You will then be ready
To embrace the man
In shades of peach and nectarine
So incredibly beautiful
From joy…so much joy!
It’s your birthright.
Author: Sarah Harvey
Image: Unsplash/Karina Tes
Editor: Yoli Ramazzina
Copy editor: Callie Rushton