March 8 is recognized as Women’s Day, and while I applaud its existence, this symbolic gesture is a long way from the ideal: every day is women’s day.
Commemorating this day causes me to reflect on the meaning of the Divine Feminine and how I got separated from mine at an early age. I didn’t realize until many years later that my body is a sacred vessel and that I need to honor it through various self-love and self-care habits and actions.
No, when I was young I was consumed by anger and shame. My mother and I had escaped a war-torn Colombia and settled in Canada, where I was an outcast. I felt shame, anger, and judged by my peers. These feelings took over my spirit and mind, so I turned to food to take away the hurt.
For me, food was the only thing I felt I could control, so I carefully counted every calorie I consumed and had very rigid rules about what I could and could not eat. From rigid control I went to binging, trying to fill the emptiness inside of me.
This way of handling my emotions was very masculine; that is, very cool and without feeling. I lived this way for decades, and I got along. However, I had no connection with my Divine Inner Feminine self.