Aug 25

Aug 25 My Shameover

After two months of 'hermit' life, something has been unleashed inside me.

I literally cannot keep up with what wants to pour out. It’s exciting, and overwhelming, and disorienting, and beautiful all at the same time.

But you'll have to bear with me while I drip all of this out, because if I tried to put it all in one blog post it would be like drinking from a fire hose.

In essence, I've spent the last two months immersed in the dark cloud of what it means to Walk As A Woman in This World. And all the ways we've been told to sit. the. fuck. down.

I really had to go there. Like, deep. Because if I didn't experience it, I couldn't relate to it, I couldn't heal it, I couldn't integrate it, I couldn't talk about it, I couldn't have compassion for it.

There is a reason that my warrior soul was born into a female body in this lifetime, and it's all about moving from that type-A masculine into the dark, wild, raw feminine. Which is our true place of power.

(It's not that there's no place for the masculine, because there is. It's just that the true divine masculine is in service to the feminine. It's a safe and protective container to hold and give form to the feminine creative energy, so that our left brain can understand what the right brain is receiving from Spirit.)

So all of that to say, I’ve been incubating. And now I am experiencing my renaissance.

A rebirth that is wet and weird and wonderful. Fertile, rich, chaotic, and deeply, darkly feminine.

It is construed of three essential elements:

Unapologetic - I do not apologize for myself. I take responsibility for myself, and I am in full ownership of myself. I see others in their power, and I treat them as such. Minimizing, deleting, qualifying, retracting, and adulterating Who I Am does not happen here.
Unbound - Control has been the mechanism through which I’ve kept myself small, pretty, pink, poised, and perfect. It has actually been suffocating, relentless, and punishing. Binding. It has kept down the wild woman within. I am no longer a slave to that control.
Unfuckwithable - I am boundaried, shored up, and powerful. I do not compromise myself for your tastes, or who I think you want me to be. I am in integrity, alignment, and full self-expression. I am holy and treat myself as such.

But, alas, this is a process. And I get to teach from the wound. Which brings me to my topic for today’s class:

My Shameover.

(Oh, but first, I don’t feel like doing videos anymore, so my blog will be written for now. I love writing. It’s currently 5am and my family is still sleeping and I am writing by candlelight. Swoon. My joy meter is at a 10+. Plus, I don’t love doing videos even though I thought that’s what you wanted me to do. I can’t even stand watching other people’s videos so…yeah. This may change later, but for now, I want to write. And this post is ultimately all about how I gave myself permission to do whatever the f**k I want. And how you can, too).

Ok, so back to My Shameover.

Once upon a time (like two days ago), I put out a post that was BIG.

It was A LOT. I was half naked and really just owning myself.

And it was powerful.

And I received more loving comments on that post than I have maybe ever.

And especially comments of resonance. People saying, like, "omg I needed to hear this" and that kinda stuff, which is like The Best. At least that's what my ego says: There's nothing better than being able to put something out there that feels like it's helpful.

And then the next morning (YESTERDAY), I woke up, and I was like, "how am I going to compete with that?!"

Like, that was SO BIG, so extraordinary, I can't keep up with myself.

I’m never going to be able to fill my own shoes!

And I am going to disappoint everyone who just started following me with my next post, because it's never going to be as good as that.

(Yes, that old ‘fear-of-disappointing-others-so-just-might-as-well-not-show-up-at-all’ story)

In short: I was experiencing paralyzing inadequacy.

So even though I had a ‘cute’ post planned for yesterday, I realized I needed to speak instead about the inadequacy.

So I did.

I shared about how I didn’t think I could measure up to my own self and about my Fake Vulnerability, which has been a tactic of mine to appear smaller, so that I don’t come across to you as threatening and lose your love.

The punchline of All That was: it's ok, no matter what. If my followers need to unfollow me cus they don’t vibe, that's ok. All that matters is that I am showing up. And being vulnerable.

(Oh, god, you can see where this is going.)

Yes, Spirit tested me immediately. Because that particular post did NOT generate nearly the love and appreciation and admiration of the day before.

And I felt sick.

I was in a total shameover spiral.

I felt open, raw, exposed, gutted.

And I was like: Well, THIS isn’t going to work.

I am going back to pretty, perfect, pink, and poised. Cus this shit is SO UNCOMFORTABLE.

Like, I literally couldn’t sleep last night. So I did what any reasonable Shamanic Practitioner would do at 3am:

I woke up, got out my pendulum, called in my intergalactic counsel of light, and karmically integrated it.

Here’s what happened:

First, I dropped the story about the post, knowing it was just the ‘messenger’ carrying a deeper ‘message’.
Second, I realized that, inside of all this, there was something I was afraid of. And I was open to seeing what that was.
Third, I inquired where I felt the uncomfortable feeling in my body.
It began as a wide open wound in my gut. Like my insides were sliced open for everyone to see. Exposed, meaty, raw, young flesh available for your consumption.
DEFENSELESS.
THEN, the feeling turned into a full-body mesh grid-work that ran through my whole energy field and clamped down my soft insides.
AHA! My control mechanism.

Hold me in. Hold them out.

Bound.

(I got that what happened was that I was once shamed for my vulnerability, so for me: vulnerability and shame are the SAME FEELING).

So, of course - now that I am leaning into my Wild Woman, and her three essential elements, I am pushing the edges of these limitations and it’s uncomfortable as fuckity fuck.

Finally, I asked my little girl inside what was going on for her and what she needed to hear.

Little Me: I feel unprotected.

Big Me: You are Safe. I’ve got you.

Little Me: Are you sure about all this?

Big Me: I don’t know, but we will find out together. C’mon, it will be fun.

Little Me: But I am supposed to stay in this closet and be good.

Big Me: You have permission to do whatever the fuck you want.

Full Body Reverberation Received:

You. Are. Allowed.

Instant release.

Expansion.

Opening.

Here’s the thing:

If I want to live out loud, it’s gonna get uncomfortable. I need to let this shit up and out. Cus it’s the very Thing that has been standing in the way of me taking up all the space I need to. This uncomfortable feeling is exactly what I’ve been trying to avoid by keeping myself ‘under control’.

Because if I truly ‘don’t give a fuck’, I’m in some serious power.

But there is a part of me that is afraid of that power.

And, in a perfectly crafted ego trick: Caring what you think gives me a reason to keep hiding. To not have to be powerful.

It lets me off the hook from having to be big.

It occurred to me after yesterday’s post that I still didn’t want to let go of that old friend, Control. I was still trying to be perfect. I was still holding on to a way of being that has served me for so long. It did not want to die.

The irony is: I was having shame that I did “not being perfect” wrong.

Or worse, shame that I did it too right, and now you can fully see how imperfect I am.

I felt embarrassed.

Which means that I did it exactly right, because ‘control’ used to be my pretty, pink, polished, poised defense mechanism against having to feel it At All.

xoSteffie