The Forgotten Language of the Feminine
“Wild, soft, and free—the forgotten way of the feminine.”Step into almost any women’s circle or scroll through the endless river of posts and reels that speak of the “divine feminine” or the “goddess rising,” and you will hear the same rallying cry repeated like a mantra:
Be fierce.
Be bold.
Be unapologetic.
Take up space.
Be strong.
These words are intended as medicine.
They are born from centuries of suppression.
They arise from the ache of voices silenced, bodies controlled, intuition mocked, and wisdom dismissed.
But hidden beneath this rallying cry is a paradox, a subtle and dangerous one:
We are trying to heal from patriarchal dominance
by imitating its very qualities.
The Masculine Mirror We Do Not See
Strength.
Boldness.
Unapologetic force.
These qualities are not “wrong” qualities.
They are sacred and beautiful when expressed in balance.
But they are, at their root, masculine traits.
The masculine principle in its healthy form builds, protects, pushes forward, and leads with focus.
It is a blade, a structure, a steady current.
It is linear and purposeful.
There is nothing wrong with this when it is whole.
But when women are taught that these qualities are the only path to power,
that the only way to rise is to roar,
then we have traded one costume for another.
We put on armor that was never meant to fit us
and wonder why it chafes our soul.
Instead of dismantling patriarchy,
we have simply created a matriarchy built from the same bricks--
louder, shinier, but still a fortress built on domination.
The Feminine: Not Conqueror, but Dissolver
The feminine was never meant to conquer.
Her power lies in the fact that she cannot be conquered.
She is the river that carves the canyon,
not the hammer that smashes the rock.
She is the vine that splits the stone temple open,
not the sword that shatters its walls.
Her power does not come from force.
It comes from her unwavering willingness to become everything the masculine cannot control:
Softness that melts what harshness cannot move
Receptivity that sees what force cannot perceive
Surrender that trusts the unseen currents
Enfolding rather than attacking
Mystery rather than certainty
The feminine does not fight the storm. She becomes the rain.
The Seduction of the “Fierce Goddess”
We must be honest.
It is easy to see why this distortion has slipped in unnoticed.
After centuries of being told to be small, silent, compliant, and polite,
of course it feels intoxicating to roar, to take up space, to be loud.
These qualities taste like freedom at first.
But there is a subtle trap:
if our only vision of power is one where we become louder and harder,
we have not actually freed ourselves.
The patriarchy has always honored force.
It has never understood flow.
When women rise in fierceness alone,
patriarchy nods in approval--
because we have chosen to play its game.
The deeper revolution is not about playing the same game with new players.
It is about leaving the game entirely.
My Own Journey Through
This IllusionI know this path intimately, because I once walked it.
For years, I was drawn to the energy of Warrior Goddess,
to the slogans of “roar like a goddess” and “bad-ass goddess.”
I wore those titles like armor.
I prided myself on taking control,
on getting things done,
on being the loudest voice in the room.
I thought that was my power:
to demand, to dominate, to be heard by sheer force.
And on the outside, it worked.
People listened.
Things got done.
But inside?
Inside I never felt powerful.
Each time I used that kind of force,
my body betrayed me.
I would feel uneasy, out of balance—not just in the moment,
but for days afterward.
It was as if my nervous system recoiled every time I tried to become
what I thought “power” was supposed to look like.
When I began my true healing journey,
I started to reflect on the men in my life.
And I realized something profound:
We have misinterpreted the strong masculine.
Seeing True Masculine Strength
I had been given beautiful examples of what strength looks like--
and it was nothing like what I was imitating.
I thought of my two great-grandfathers,
men I knew in their later years,
and the tenderness with which they loved their families.
I remembered my grandfathers,
both men who had endured so much in life,
yet never allowed hardship to make them bitter or cruel.
I thought of my father,
who, even in a dangerous neighborhood,
made us feel protected—not with aggression,
but with gentleness and quiet presence.
And I thought of my brothers,
who could take charge when needed,
but who also trusted and leaned on their sisters.
True masculinity was never about domination.
It was about devotion.
The Contrast That Changed Everything
And then, with startling clarity, I saw the pattern:
The men I had been attracting into my life before my healing
were not like these men I admired.
They were, instead, far more like my mother,
whose pain shaped her into an example of the unhealthy masculine:
yelling, hitting, controlling, manipulating,
wielding guilt like a weapon.
This was the model I had unknowingly absorbed.
This was the version of “strength” I had been replicating.
The Shift: A New Kind of Partnership
As I began to heal, I began to change--
and so did what I attracted.
I met my husband,
a man who embodies the true masculine:
strong, grounded, a provider and protector,
but also a healer, a safe harbor.
In the presence of his love,
I finally felt safe enough to surrender into my authentic feminine self.
I no longer felt the need to roar, to be fierce or controlling.
I discovered that I could approach situations from my heart,
with kindness, softness, and clarity--
and still achieve the same end result.
Only now, there was no unease in my body,
no aftermath of imbalance.
With that shift,
my intuition sharpened.
My creativity blossomed.
I became who I was always meant to be.
And everyone around me felt the change.
I shone brighter.
I became happier.
I found my true self.
What I Now Know
What I learned is this:
When we rely on those unhealthy, forceful traits,
we are not embodying power.
We are chasing a temporary gratification of the ego.
Real power is quieter.
It is softer.
It is free.
The Forgotten Wildness
The feminine cannot be caged.
She was never meant to perform for approval.
She does not need to fit into the narrow, sanitized mold that society offers her.
To be truly feminine is to be wild and free.
Not “wild” as in reckless--
but wild as in belonging only to herself, unclaimed by the hands of expectation.
Wild as in refusing to be domesticated by culture, tradition, or the need to please.
A wild woman is dangerous not because she is fierce,
but because she no longer lives her life according to anyone else’s rules.
She dances barefoot in the dirt because it is her nature to do so,
not because it makes a statement.
She loves when love rises,
and leaves when her soul is called elsewhere,
without asking permission.
When a woman claims this wild freedom,
no one can make her smaller with their judgment,
because she is no longer shaped by approval.
Free From the Eyes of Others
There is a subtle way the patriarchal wound still grips many of us:
we shape ourselves for the gaze of others.
We perform--
even when we are trying to be “authentic.”
The truly feminine woman does not perform.
She expresses.
She does not dress, speak, or act in a certain way to prove she is powerful.
She simply is.
She knows her value,
and she is not asking anyone to hand it back to her.
What Happens When We Reclaim Softness
Softness is not weakness.
This is the first lie that must die.
Softness is the most underestimated force in the world.
Water can topple mountains not because it strikes them,
but because it flows without ceasing.
Softness is not passivity.
Softness is unarmed power—a power so vast it no longer needs to protect itself.
Where force attacks a wall,
softness seeps through the cracks
and one day you wake up to find the wall has fallen without a sound.
The Feminine Path is a Spiral, Not a Sword
The masculine builds in straight lines.
It advances.
It seeks to climb, to rise, to conquer.
The feminine moves in spirals.
She returns.
She deepens.
She dissolves the illusion that there was ever something to climb.
When a woman remembers this,
her life no longer orbits the sun of patriarchy.
She becomes the center of her own orbit.
Why This Path Feels So Radical
There is a reason so few walk this path.
To live in softness means to trust life.
To trust life requires us to surrender control.
And control is the drug the patriarchy has been selling us for millennia.
To release that drug feels like death to the ego.
But it is only the death of illusion.
The Call to Women: Step Out of the Masculine Costume
It is time to ask ourselves hard questions:
When I think of an “empowered woman,” do I imagine someone stronger than patriarchy—or someone free of its need for strength?
Do I see power as a fist? Or as an open hand?
Am I seeking to conquer? Or to dissolve?
Am I living for myself—or still dancing for approval, applause, and belonging?
The true divine feminine does not need to mimic masculine traits to be worthy.
She is the soil, the womb, the tide.
She births empires, nourishes kingdoms, and when they crumble,
she remains.
Embodying the Forgotten Power
If we wish to embody true feminine power, we must practice it.
We must turn toward the qualities we have been taught to despise:
Rest: honoring the cycles of being instead of constant doing
Listening: valuing intuition over productivity
Receiving: allowing support instead of proving we can carry it all alone
Surrender: softening the need to control every outcome
Wildness: giving up the need for approval and returning to our untamed nature
Enfolding: holding space for all of life rather than dividing it into “us” and “them”
These are not easy practices.
They are revolutionary acts in a culture addicted to dominance.
The Future Is Not Fierce. The Future Is Soft.
The next wave of awakening will not look like louder voices and harder edges.
It will look like women who have laid down the sword entirely,
who sit by the river,
and who know that nothing in the world can make them move
unless it flows with the deep tide of their own being.
It will look like softness
that does not apologize for being soft.
It will look like tenderness
that does not need to become steel to be respected.
It will look like wild women, unafraid to be fully themselves, even if no one approves.
The Invitation
Sisters, let us remember:
We do not need to become fierce to be free.
We need to become whole.
We need to remember the forgotten language of the feminine,
a language so soft it terrifies a culture that only knows how to shout.
And perhaps this is the ultimate irony:
In a world obsessed with conquering,
the most radical thing you can do
is to refuse to conquer at all.
To live like water.
To trust like earth.
To open like sky.
To be so untamed that no one’s approval matters.
This is how the feminine heals the world.
Closing Blessing
Power is not in the fist,
but in the hand that opens.
Not in the roar,
but in the breath between.
Softness is the secret language
of the eternal feminine.
And once we remember it,
we will never forget again.
Brightest Blessings,
