A woman is a creature of pure alchemy.
She is both strong and soft. Loving and tenacious. Tolerant and replete with boundaries. Ethereal and grounded. Emotional and unshakable. Backbone and bosom. An empath and a healer who protects her energy against those who seek to drain it.
She is the Bruja. The Curandera. Hera and Hecate. Juno and Freyja. Maiden, Mother, Crone. She is the moon in all her phases.
The keeper of mysteries and ancient truths.
When a woman cultivates her intuitive prowess and finds herself connected to the source of her magic—which is to say, all things living and dead—she is unstoppable. They will try to stop her; they will try to pluck the moon from the sky and assign to her narrow, limiting roles that stifle her magic.
They’ll do all that they can to turn the Queen into a handmaiden—and still she persists. She is a force of nature. She is you. She is me. She is all female identifying souls who refuse to shrink and choose instead to both take up space and create space for others like her.
Life has it’s necessary roughness, but a woman who stays in her magic uses that roughness to mold her into the highest expression of herself.