Wild Woman
I am listening to Women Who Run with the Wolves by Clarissa Pinkola Estes. The Wild Woman archetype is something I didn’t grow up with, so this book is an education for me. My yoga teacher told me about it. Estes tells stories, fairy tales specifically, to illuminate the struggle for a woman to embody and claim her authentic self. Until I read this book, I didn’t realize that this is a conflict I have been trying to resolve for most of my life.
I distinctly remember a time where I was embodied. I have an image of me singing and dancing in the living room, listening to Sister Sledge on the radio, spinning barefoot on the rust colored shag carpet. Another image is roller skating as the Jackson Five blared, whipping myself in circles around the poles in the unfinished basement. I was reminded more recently on a bike ride. I couldn’t find my helmet, so I ventured out without it, and the feel of the wind in my face and hair brought me back in time, feeling as free as I felt when I was a little girl, racing away from home to find action in the neighborhood.
It’s hard to know when I lost touch with myself, and how and why, but I carry those images too. Memories that were sharp and fluid when I was young became stagnant and dull, almost blurry with a film of disconnection and boredom, as I grew older. Physical activity yielded to the basement couch. Imagination bowed to cable TV, and I became a passive recipient instead of an active participant. I downloaded messages from the world that didn’t resonate, and as I internalized those ideas, I grew further away from myself. Intuition, which was once the driving force within me, was replaced by cliches and messages that made me feel inferior and unworthy. I knew these ideas were stupid and often plain wrong, and because I couldn’t reconcile that with how I felt inside, I began to live in my head. I lost faith in myself. I didn’t do this with any intention. It happened gradually, and it became my comfort zone. I cloaked myself in the veils of service, selflessness, and modesty. I played small while judging and analyzing the actions of everyone else. That kept me from focusing on all that felt wrong within me. The instinctive urges, impulses, and ideas that swelled in me from time to time were met with guilt and shame.
I’ve felt a lot of anger and resentment about this conflict throughout my life, and I often focused on blaming and complaining about it. I would blame everyone from the church to my parents to the patriarchy. I gave my power away without even realizing it, so changing my perspective didn’t seem possible. I tried to find peace in many different ways, and I was pretty good at this. When you live your life in service of others, as women and particularly mothers do, you may internalize that this is all there is, this is the path, this is the reward. That’s what I believed. The Universe intervened, in large and small ways. It led me to yoga and my teacher. He challenged everything I believed, everything I internalized and accepted. I have been deconstructing this ever since, evaluating what belongs in my life and what needs to be expelled, questioning everything, inviting a critical eye and discernment to the table for the first time in years. I am awake and connected now. I understand that the Wild Woman is my essence. It is who I am. I am meant to express myself, to use my voice, to share my ideas and opinions. I am not meant to play small. Playing small weighed me down and sapped my energy for years. Authenticity feels right. My body is aligned with this, and my mind is coming to terms with it. It still wants to protect me and stay hidden so I can survive in the world, but the positive reinforcement I experience when I show others exactly who I am has helped quiet my mind. I am a creature of love, acceptance and nurturing, and I am also a creature of desire, instinct, and creativity. I am the masculine, feminine, and divine.
Dismantling the false narratives from my life frees me to be exactly who I am, embodied in power, choice, and intention. Fairytales are ripe with imagery, metaphor, and symbol. Our job is to never outgrow them, but to become more and more familiar with them. They remind us of ourselves and draw us back to our essence.
