A Love Letter to the Men of the World

A Love Letter to the Men of the World January 10, 2018

Dear Men of the World,

I have hated you…

for walking away from your feelings and divorcing yourself from love so easily.

for worshipping my body and destroying my heart.

for lying to yourself, rather than owning your darkness and allowing it to heal you.

for valuing money, status, and possessions over genuine connection.

for being cold, stoic, and distant when I was starving for your affection.

for loving only the parts of me that you could handle, the easier parts, the soft parts, the parts that don’t question or confront.

I have hated you for teaching me all of these lessons, and I have hated myself for learning them so well that I’ve used every one of them against you. I wanted to BE you, to become what I believed was the epitome of strength and control, instead of honoring all that is naturally powerful and divinely feminine within me.

I couldn’t possibly love you until I began to love all of my disowned parts. That took many years of shedding layers, dismantling walls, and grieving. So much grieving. I still grieve for the patriarchal damage we’ve both endured. Even now, after all the work and the healing, I still find pieces of me that need mending. I still find ways of blocking my own happiness. I still find little pockets of shame, buried deeply in the contours of my body and the recesses of my mind and heart.

I know all those things you taught me aren’t really you. It’s how you’ve been coping with life or avoiding it, but I believe you’re capable of so much more. Somewhere, underneath your rusty armor and the weary, fragmented pieces of your soul, a light still shines. It’s barely a flicker most of the time, but if you ever allow it to break through your toughened exterior, it will melt me. Did you get that? It will melt me right into your chest, because I will trust you enough to let you all the way inside me. Do you want to be all in? Then be all out. Show me your heart, and I will show you the universe.


A Priestess in Service of the Goddess  

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