The divine feminine was never weak. She was wild. Ancient. Unapologetically knowing.

She did not bow, she burned with remembrance. She nurtured kingdoms, and destroyed lies in silence.

But they feared her presence. So they buried her under theology, shamed her into shadows, rewrote scriptures without her name.

The flame of intuition, the sacred womb, the voice that whispers before the fall— they called these dangers. They made them taboo.

And in doing so, they cut Spirit in half.

To awaken is to reclaim both flames: Fire and flow. Strength and surrender. The voice and the void.

Return to her. Not as a gender — but as the part of your soul you were told to fear.

She never died. She waited. And now, she rises through you.