How were we feeling as our bodies changed from girls to women, and our emotions got mixed together in a toxic cocktail with suggestions and images of emaciated "perfection"?
Did we give away the game’s control bar into the hands of friends, boyfriends, teachers, and strangers? Pick me, pick me, pretty please with a cherry on top.
Was it the approval of others that scored our self-worth report? Did we have a good day only when we were voted in?
Did we seek our worth and our womanhood by armouring our sensitivity, clenching closed our vulnerability and jumping into the world of “as seen on TV”?
Did we joke over our pain of confusion and hurt? Did we even know we were wearing a laughing mask to match our pretty skirts.
Did we blame our bodies for all our problems, emblazoning them with scarlet guilt and shame?
Were we measured in numbers; pounds, inches, sizes? Not quite right.
What did we reach for? When we didn’t know where to turn, what did we use to seek solace in one moment, only to use it as a weapon against ourselves in the next; was it food, substances, gossip, moving too fast?
Did we learn to cooperate or compete with other females for the finite prize of attention, the golden cup? Did we think feeling alone was nature’s way?
How did we attach our cords in relationship connections?
Did we embrace being objectified believing it an honour bestowed by specialness?
And what about self-love, the most coveted treasure yet? Did we allow it to blow away when someone wasn't looking?
Did we give and give ourselves away, not knowing how to hold something sacred?
Did we wrap up our songs, our voices, our true dances, our ideas, freezing them deep inside, forgetting they were ever there, covered in ice at the back of the freezer?
The devil on one shoulder and the angel on the other, where oh where was the place of the Divine Mother?
Severed from our roots; boarded up, who was left inside in hiding?
Who showed us our power of a Himalayan mountain?
Who loved us without an edge?
Who connected us to ourselves and showed us our unbreakable umbilical cord attached to the very heart of being?
Who danced with abandon as the river of life flows through her?
Who sang like a songbird full of joyful melody?
Who worked together with others in the rhythm of the moon's ebb and flow?
Who sat in the peaceful silence of her power attracting the animals to lay down beside her?
Who expressed their volcanoes, hurricanes, and misty fog of emotions?
Who was brave enough to go into the cave of her fears with eyes open and make it out the other end?
Who shone with the energy of the sun radiating from the inside out?
Who ripped out the demons and killed them with her sickle?
Who slashed through patterns of blindness with a diamond sword?
Who languished in her own sensuality?
Who melted into the sacred union with man?
Who rested in open vulnerability on her beloved's chest?
Who showed us our own natural ability of manifestation and creation?
Who wrote prose and poetry and made them into experiential life?
Where was the Divine Woman open, vulnerable, powerful, clear, sexual, emotional, beautiful, creative, intelligent, intuitive, loving, nurturing, abundant, and equal?
It's time. Find her. Find her inside NOW.
She is ready to dance!
I'm Emma Walls. Life is a mirror.