Untamed — Healing our feminine connection to womanhood.

Photo by Karen Cantu

The feminine is nothing passive. It’s actually more like wildfire, with the tenderness of not really burning —mercy-like qualities of deep loving. The gentleness of touch, and the love language of presence. The feminine is, very deeply, presence. What is a mother, a good mother, but that which is present full-heartedly?

“We’ve been disconnected from ourselves”, it’s a huge understatement.

Womanhood begins with us, but it never really ends. It’s an eternal passion for life, the zest of being called wrong but never really admitted to being needed and much ever-present to our callings. The calling has been, always been, healing, to heal. This is the baseline of the healing: they even tried to burn us alive. Deep within us women, there is this rage, this scream, of wanting to be seen, heard, recognized, and understood. Deep within women, there is this ocean of emotions waiting to be dropped the shields of fake forgiveness. How could we really? Undermined, silenced, raped, and all the rest?

Feminism is this: We won’t ever forget. But we are willing to be equals.

That’s the rage of the feminine. What scares everyone about feminism is the quality of mercy. There is deep loving mercy that is equality.

Healing the feminine erases all patriarchy within us, a lot of women are not ready to face that. It hurts. It will drive us to unleash all that fury, “better to do it alone, in silence…” — but it’s necessary to fully live our lives.

Those of us with absent fathers know the importance of healed masculinity. Those of us with abusive fathers recognize healed masculinity. We are not idiots, if we think we can help you, save you from yourselves. There is deep loving in this type of idiocy. We just know the importance of healed masculinity. And when healing our disconnection to womanhood we realize, they are the ones who need healing, to be seen, heard, and understood — we’ve been screaming, they’ve been silently waiting for their turn to speak their loving hearts with deep acceptance — “they” need us for it, they need the idiots.

The unhealed womanhood rejects her human presence. This is serious. Rejects that there is blood coming out of her. Rejects that babies are created inside of her. Rejects her fur. Her wildness. Rejects herself, every day she looks at the mirror and self-abuses herself with another complaint, flaw-seeking rejection of self.

The unhealed womanhood rejects the possibility of ever being healed. I help trauma victims for a living — men believe they can heal, and women need to be told it’s possible. All.of.them.

The unhealed womanhood doesn’t want to be here. It’s too difficult to look others in the eyes and say: I truly, deeply, compassionately, and honestly accept myself. It’s never really true, or is it? Sometimes it is. Untamed, wild, that’s what they call these women. The ones who went too far.

To love ourselves deeply, more than others do, it’s considered narcissistic. Self-esteem, the baseline of any healthy relationship — and we are ALWAYS in a relationship with everything else — is considered a flaw, a personality error.

There is a home in the wildness of the untamed. That’s where all your hearts reside, no matter the gender. The untamed feminine is your wildest dream of protection, security, activity, and safety. It’s in the untamed feminine you fall asleep at night curious about what another day can bring. It’s in the untamed feminine you relax into the arms of those who you feel safe with. It’s not really masculinity to say men are the active, strong ones. Men are scared children, in fear of themselves and their actions. We all know a healed masculinity speaks from the heart — from the soul — with honesty, compassion, and loving presence. He is not scared to admit all the wrongs perpetrated through all these millennia. We all know the healed feminine is the strength that allows them to do it. It’s that wildness again, untamed all the way into the eternal light.

Self-rejection is not a trait — it’s a symptom of disconnection.

To heal it we must face this darkness: what was there to be discovered underneath millennia of repression?

We can all think that it is a horrible discovery, but no. It’s true femininity under there. It’s true womanhood. That’s what has been repressed, that’s what’s after the healing.

All the horror and suffering that comes out is just a purge of millennia-old rejected emotions, in light of appearing sane, composed, “feminine”. To claim our sovereignty over our bodies-ourselves, is to be in the limelight of what’s been rejected. Healed masculinity accepts this healing, wounded masculinity self-abuses with more rejection.

To really understand the importance of this, close your eyes. Now touch your own body. Tell yourself you love yourself. And mean it. Try voicing it, now try to say it only in your mind, without exteriorizing. What seems more honest?

To really understand the importance of this, gain weight, drop the shields, claim sovereignty and stop waxing your natural fur. See what happens, the self-hatred that comes up, live with it until it’s gone. Are you ready to really, truly, honestly, accept and love yourself?

The biggest form of self-rejection happens right at the end of healing — maybe I’m not supposed to be alive. We feel it deeply, maybe we are just not supposed to be here. The biggest form of self-rejection happens right before we uncover our vulnerability — “why don’t you love me?” And that is when we find ourselves, and learn how to accept, love, and be our true selves. To learn to speak our truths, our honest hearts. And actually choose what traits are called feminine, and what traits are masculine. To understand the internet is full of patriarchal bullshit.

To know our phases, to understand our bodies in consonance with the moon, the sun, and the earth. To understand how our seeds are beautiful manifestations of our true selves. To learn this is to claim sovereignty. Independently of financial freedom, not leaving alone, sharing our energy with others or not, to claim this sovereignty is the first and last step of healing.

To stop the comparison with other women, the stupidity of competition between what is already all ours: we were the winning sperms of our collective manhood. We’ve won the race already, now it’s time to love.

Healing is not “pretty”. It is not tamed. It is not “acceptable”. It is beautiful, however, to connect with ourselves again, to understand sisterhood, understand motherhood, understand love, and understand presence.

The “do I look pretty?” kind of becomes “do I look acceptable to be witnessed by other people, regardless of gender?”.

The raging waters of the ocean of healing this trauma is not supposed to be packed nicely inside a therapist’s office, talking and crying with a pretty tissue. It’s about letting it all go — dancing and raging if needed, it’s about healing sexuality and discovering sensuality again. It’s about remembering who we truly are, beneath all layers of conditions. It’s about connecting very, very deeply with our own self-importance and not allowing one inch of other women’s suppression, or man-made behaviorism of any kind.

It’s about screaming that we matter until someone says: you are right, you're seen, understood, relatable, you’re accepted as you are.

It’s about the deep trust in the co-creation that is shared reality. To really see that our healing is not only possible, it’s a matter of sovereign choice.

Who were those scared of what was said here? What scared you? Who were those with tears? What made you sad? You’re seen, understood. I relate. I accept you. Whatever the reasons are, let it out.

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Matilde Magro

Matilde Magro

Regenerative Designer, entrepreneur, artist, teacher.