How I learned to love the Divine Masculine

This is the tale

… of how I stopped projecting the pain of my father onto every man…

…and started worshipping at the altar of the Divine Masculine.

My biological father left a pretty nasty imprint on my nervous system.

Even just telling you about the level and depth of the abuse would likely be traumatic in this email…

I’ve never shared the full extent of it publicly.

He passed away when I was 17, so I can speak about him and our experiences without damaging him…

But let’s just say, as far as gnarly experiences with a father go, mine is pretty high up there.

I’m not saying we need to give out awards for “Daddy Issues” or anything…

But I’d be a strong front-runner for a medal if there were such an award.

(And I’d cry on the podium and clutch the award and start my speech with “I’d like to thank my dad for being such a true asshole…”)

A very, very long time ago, I made a commitment to myself.

I swore that as I healed from sexual abuse, I would end up with a deeper, more fabulous, more authentic sexuality than I ever would have had if I didn’t have to address the abuse in the first place.

I was like, look if I’m going to have to do all this trauma healing…

I’m not going to end up just “okay.”

I’m going to end up fucking FABULOUS.

And so it has been…I’ve gone from someone who couldn’t orgasm or have sex without going into a trauma freeze response and who hated my body and wanted to crawl out of my own sexual skin…

Someone who threw up over the side of the bed because the feelings of disgust inside of my body were so intense…

To a true Sex Goddess.

I did it for me.

I did it for love.

I did it because I didn’t want to die and still be limited because of his pain…

But set free by my own soul power.

Every drop of pleasure and ecstasy I embodied…

Felt like a reclamation.

I don’t know any other way to put it…but when my beloved recently looked at me with awe in his eyes and said “Do you really enjoy sex that much? Because it’s truly amazing. And the level of pleasure you allow in your body, I’ve never experienced anything like that.”

I could feel the good kind of pride in my heart…the kind that knows that what you have, you worked for because you valued it.

The kind of pride that knows that in some of the most challenging moments, I fought for the expression of my own sexual pleasure and joy and liberation, even when it felt insurmountably difficult.

I know that my pussy is in her power.

But I have known that my heart isn’t fully open.

Not to men, not to love, not to sacred union.

That doesn’t mean I haven’t loved – I have.

It doesn’t mean I haven’t had some epic relationships – I have.

It means that I know, deep down inside, that there are levels of my heart so protected with fierce walls that I haven’t given my heart all. the. way.

Not to anyone – ever.

And my life looks and feels like love.

I’m proud of my romantic partnerships and my deep-soul friendships.

I’m proud of my company and the way I lead.

But I know – like any honest person – the difference between “good enough” and “all the way.”

My heart is open – but it could be open all the way.

My heart is open, but it has still been blocked with deep ancestral and childhood sadness.

And so I committed, in my heart, to going all the way.

I dragged myself in front of my altar and declared this Spring, that for true love and sacred union, I would do “whatever it takes.”

As synchronicity would have it, I got invited to do a private ceremony in another state.

I didn’t really know what I was getting into, I just felt compelled to go.

I got on the plane, showed up for the ceremony and committed.

It involved plant medicine, darkness and some deep bodywork.

I was completely safe, but it happened to mirror my deepest traumatic experiences.

As I lay there, in an altered state of consciousness, in the darkness…

I felt myself in such a state of terror.

I could feel a whole wall of somatic freeze and fear that was still in my body.

I could feel how it was being triggered by the man in the room.

He was safe.

He was a dear friend.

And it was taking everything I could muster not to run out of the room screaming in terror.

I knew I had two choices…run out of the room and into the darkness…

Or face the legacy of fear in my own body and choose, with all the love and presence I could muster in such a situation…

To scaffold a new reality with men into my body and being.

And look, I don’t recommend what I ended up doing – it could have been retraumatizing for anyone else.

I just listened deep within and did what I knew I needed to do.

So I let myself be washed over with waves of terror…and I kept choosing love.

I keep choosing to stay with myself and my terrified body.

I kept choosing to feel my projected fears towards the man who was holding space for me.

It might have been hours…but at some point…something switched inside of me…

And how I saw him stopped being a projection of the unintegrated terror with my father…

And started truly seeing his Divine Masculine.

As the true Divine Masculine washed over me…

I felt what this consciousness really is…

And by extension what men can be.

I felt the depth and truth and value of the essence of masculinity…

And how rare it truly is.

I sobbed for the beauty inside of every man on this planet…

And how few know the true fierceness and rawness and depth and love of what they actually are.

The same way I saw almost twenty years ago, the Divine Feminine…and knew how badly I wanted every woman on the planet to know her own true power and essence…

I wanted every man to know his.

I stopped seeing only my father and I started feeling HIM.

And in that ceremony, I kept pendulating back and forth.

New waves of terror and resistance would arise…

And I would love them and be with them…

Until they relented…

And the Divine Masculine would be right there.

Like gold and conscious cock and precious jewels and the sharpness of the blade of a well-crafted knife and the warmth and solidity of protection and the fierceness of raw desire and the blood of a fresh kill and the wisdom of leadership and the mischief of rebellion and the lingering taste of honor in my mouth and the desire to soften and open my legs….

It was kind of indescribable…but also kind of like that…

And I was in reverence.

Bowing at the feet of the Divine Masculine in all his power and glory with my whole heart and soul.

It was so beautiful, I’d never forget it.

So many people in my life serve the Goddess.

Halleluja…more and more and more people all the time.

As I sat up from that experience I knew something deep in my soul…

Now I served the God, too.

Everything shifted.

The quality and availability of men who I dated.

The way I felt about them and loved them.

The way my body opened.

I had often wondered if a woman who had been through what I went through as a little girl would ever be able to truly love a man…to truly surrender and open her heart…or if I’d just been through too much.

And I realized that so long as every man I came across was a mirror of my father…

I would never love according to my soul’s truth…

But only according to the past.

The only thing powerful enough to overcome a childhood of terror…

Would be releasing my projections on men…

And building a direct line to the Divine Masculine.

It’s how I became the woman I am today.

I didn’t look at myself or anyone else through the lens of what women allowed themselves to be…

I looked directly at Divine Feminine and knew what we all could be.

And I chose that path.