In Search of Her

12029113_10206724853033586_1570536069_nIt occurred to me recently that I’ve been on a two-year quest.

I didn’t set out in any intentional way or have any intentional goal.

But here I am. Two years in to diving into the feminine.

What’s funny is I was a total girly-girly girl.

There wasn’t a scrap of tomboy in me. I was a ballerina-head who squealed if the ball came toward her at recess and was typically picked second-to last when that awful time came to play dodge-ball at recess. (the sweet boy with cerebral palsy got picked after me).

In high school I was deeply connected to HER. I remember educating my circle of friends to “turn on their light” (wow, I was wiser than I give credit) so that the cute boys in the bar we fake ID’d ourselves into would come over. We’d start to giggle and I would tune into my energy and poof…

That shit worked.

But then I became a mom. And the best thing that ever happened to me made me believe that I had to put HER away.

Good mothers do not turn on their light, they shine it on their children.

I’m streaming tears as a write this because when I’ve written on this topic before I’ve said this was about career and success. I’ve told a story about having a front row seat to the edge of the feminist movement because I was blessed to have a mom who was a rule breaker, a torch bearer, a fighter on the road to women having choice.

When my Daddy told her he’d thought she’d stay home when she had me, she divorced him and hightailed it to New York and made a different kind of life for herself… For us.

But that’s all crap – a lovely and convenient story.

I see now that it’s not the truth.

Because I knew HER deeply in my career, which appeared to be a masculine one… Investment management isn’t exactly a girl’s club. I was in sales. I sold to stockbrokers. Duh. I’d walk into the brokerage office, turn on my light and sell my little heart out.

Yeah. That wasn’t it.

It was motherhood.

In the great irony of generational patterns, once I had those babies I couldn’t wait to stay home.

Dear God do I love those children. I love them like air, and water and sunshine and the waves of the ocean. Parenting has been blissful for me.

And… it cost me HER.

The club of motherhood can be a cruel one. There’s apparently a secret pact not to outshine, be different, have kids that are too good or too bad. Conform or be twittered about. You risk your spot in the play-date club.

There is NOTHING worse than facing the criticism of another mother. It’s like a knife in the heart.

So you fit in. And you, the divine essence of feminine light and creativity and power and magic… turn off your light.

The sex dries up. The passion for life dries up. Your brilliant intellect becomes mushy. And you find yourself in a coffee shop where the most passionate conversation is about little Joey’s poop and what the neighbor who remembers HER dared to wear to the PTA night.

No thank you.

I have tears for the mothers. This isn’t a price we should pay.

So my hell no has lead me on a path to rediscovering HER. I’ve danced on stripper poles and boudoir floors in a 9-month mentorship all about the feminine. I spent a weekend in a hot tub, literally engulfed in Sera Beak’s Red, Hot and Holy which sent me into an obsession with the Goddesses, Kali and Lakshmi.

I’ve learned to dance with feminine energy from one of the most powerful essences of woman I believe to be walking on the planet right now, Jody England.

And this week, with my coach and mentor Marci Lock (a whole different flavor of a woman in her power) I literally battled my demons of my anger with the feminine in a beat down, face in the sand, blood on my knuckles journey on the beach at Encinitas.

Woman.

You do not serve the world with your smallness and conformity. You do not serve your children by playing by the rules.

Where are the role models? The women who stand in their feminine power as women, while navigating relationships and parenting and self-love and yes, money and sex and dare I say politics.

The sad fact is that there aren’t enough. So I am raising my hand. And believe me sweet sister, it is not from a place of having it all figured out. I most certainly do not have it all figured out.

I raise my hand with a commitment.

That I will not hide. I will not keep myself small so you don’t feel bad, or don’t like me. I will stand in the Turth of who I am and what I know to be true.

I am a Mother. And I am a woman. Who’s light is turned ON. And that, my love, is the path to building wealth on purpose.

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