Walking Across The Bridge to the Woman You are Becoming:

A Poem + Prayer for Crossing the Threshold

Photo by Nick Fewings

When once your social cache was about being sexy, walking into every room and having heads turn, being whispered about, and suddenly, over time, you become more invisible, cloaked and still…

who are you then?

If you’ve always been “hot,” and loved being hot, and suddenly it doesn’t matter if you are hot, and you are actually slowing down and cooling off, and your hot identity is waning…

who are you then?

When your lips have spent a life saying “look at me” adorned in crimson red and then you let them be naked, soft, and tenderly pink, they seem shy with crinkles of aging soft skin…

who are you then?

You are a woman maturing.

You are a woman aging.

You are a woman noticing other parts of herself.

Besides the value in your splash,

Your shine,

Your value is sourcing from the heart now…

On the surface it may look less flashy,

It may not catch the attention of the passerby anymore,

But when you look into the eyes of the cashier at the store,

The gleam in your soul is radiant,

Like a honey wave of soft

Entering the day of all you meet-

You are no longer all spice,

And sass,

Baddass,

Boom!

You are a feeling of home,

Of mother,

Of love,

Of tender.

Where you once wanted to point out things you were opinionated about,

Now you welcome all into your heart of love-

Even the “bad guys”

You see them as love now too.

The women who used to bother you the most,

Flaunting money and skin and perfect teeth

And sheen…

You love them exactly where they are now.

You have stopped trying to change people.

You have stopped telling them what to do.

You offer an initiation.

You offer your heart.

But you don’t tell them if they are doing life wrong or right,

You simply love.

Your power doesn’t lie in numbers online,

In the bank,

Or on some web page or app,

You see through that now.

You invite others to see through it too,

To see the value in presence, attention, honesty, compassion.

This is maturing.

This is releasing the pleasing tendencies of the little girl,

Her skinny body and tiny breasts,

Her baby vulva,

The obsession with staying close to her,

Being forever young and cute and bubbly bounce,

The attachment to her smallness.

Instead of being the little girl,

You hold the little girl,

tenderly inside.

You take up space,

With your round fleshy belly,

Your folds of life,

Your wide lush hips,

With the little wrinkles beside your eyes that say :

“I have laughed! Oh I have laughed!”

With the confidence of a woman!

With the wisdom of a big life well lived and deeply loved.

Your mind is free of it’s attachment to the little girl body,

or the sexy empowered woman,

And you think of other things now…

Wondering if the seeds in the garden will sprout now or later,

What If the chicken was marinated in the garlic lime for another day,

What rose petals to put in the bath, pink or yellow,

How much you love the sea and are worried about it’s health…

You have accepted life’s suffering and you don’t try and run from it anymore or outsmart it.

There is no escaping, and your heart’s scars speak to the courage you’ve had to love and live, and be broken again and again.

Perhaps you are a late bloomer…

only just making the journey across the bridge at your ripe age…

But perhaps

you

are

perfectly

on

time.

(If you’re longing to be amidst women in sacred transformation, circle and ritual and and mentorship my group Coven, first 3 month group called ALCHEMY begins February 8th. Join me as you continue with your deep soul work this life. For virtual community that gathers with me twice a month join us in Radical Awakenings.)