True love never compensates

Beware of love bombing. Beware of the swiftness with which the love-starved wounds you’ve tucked away from your consciousness will shackle you to anyone who throws you love crumbs. Beware of the way you talk to yourself one day finding allegiance in a loved one you’ll be heartbroken by to hear those same words in that same cadence echoed back to you. Beware of all the ways you’ve relinquished the responsibility to protect your soul from fragmentations, to the external reality that has no recourse but to fragment you.

Beware of the way your visceral and automatic feelings unconsciously drive and sabotage your decisions.

Beware of the neural highway to hell you’ve created from habitually ignoring and denigrating your very real pain because giving it your attention inconveniences you. Beware of the fantastic facade you keep choosing over your very simple and enough self.

No frills

We’re conditioned to manipulate men into picking us to be loved. We exert influence to be noticed and recognized. Everything rides on someone else acknowledging what is stored within us but for which we don’t have a means of genuine expression.

I think this is why women act territorial over their men when the men flirt or have full-blown affairs with another woman. The other woman challenges the ‘main chick’ and rivals her influence over the man. It becomes less about the relationship and more about an overt kind of power: manipulation through illusion.

Illusion of what? Well, by embodying everything we pick up through non-verbal cues and pattern recognition that the man yearns for. We offer to become his crutch to bolster his ego. Anything to make him see that we’re the right choice. It’s no wonder then that consumerism and exploitation of women go hand in hand. It’s a macrocosmic representation of what we are conditioned to do in order to be chosen (consumed, bought).

The problem is, a relationship that came into fruition through convincing will always be dysfunctional unless the woman frees herself from the codependency and self-pity that is often used to avoid taking responsibility for oneself. Unless a woman is herself unconditionally, expecting no compensation or reward from the man for simply being her, she’ll forever be a subordinate to his ego and hold an auxiliary position in the relationship. She’ll be viewed as part of the service industry ; he’ll feel he maintains her existence. To some extent it’s true. When you give someone the role of being a mule for your inner expressions and self hood, you communicate that you’re not able to function without them. So while your contribution to his life is complementary, his contribution to yours is absolutely fundamental because you haven’t learnt to contain all of yourself within yourself. Your very safety lies in the hands of others. When the stakes are that high, you’ll tap dance and perform until you evaporate.

The leasing of evil

I’ve been given to stabilizing people and especially their neurotic psychopathy so as to be protected from their volatility and fickleness. I couldn’t hold up in the face of an attack, so it was either that I hide completely or go into the lion’s den to tame the existential threat, or at least try to. I spent my entire LIFE thinking that if I give my truth, my empathy, my unconditional love, and presence then perhaps I’d be allowed to just live without being disturbed.


That never worked and never will. Had to learn that the hard way. Had to come to terms with whatever within me is terrified of rejection and humiliation. Had to ground the life within ME by finding meaning in my being.

Don’t live for those who won’t die with you

I read this Somali guy’s IG post where he dedicated the caption to his mum for mother’s day. He wrote about a memory in Somali that to him encapsulates motherhood. And it disturbed me so deeply that I haven’t been able to shake it off since.

He said he’d left the masjid after morning classes and was starving. In front of the masjid was an older lady who sold cup of oat, poured from a thermos she was carrying around. He had 2 cups from that and went home. There he was met by his mum who was making canjeela (somali pancakes) and had prepared for him a plate of pancakes and some tea, which he turned down because he was full. He went to his room talking to some girl when after a while his mum came in with steaming liver that she’d stir-fried and the pancakes. Apparently she had gone out to buy fresh liver to make it for him specifically. She said hooyo, here have some breakfast. I know you turned it down because it was dry so I bought and made you the liver you loved. He said he was so shocked and too embarrassed to turn her down after everything she went through so he ate it.

He concluded by saying this experience taught him that despite her not having had anything to eat she put him first and his satisfaction meant more to her than anything else. He said a mother is the one who feeds you when you’re hungry, treats you when you’re ill and the only one who will sacrifice her life for you.

The reason this disturbed me is because I saw how implicit we women are in erasing ourselves even when there’s nothing at stake, like with our kids. We’ve identified with being needed, and we’re chronically codependent as a collective. And it’s this underbelly that goes unresolved when we speak about what women go through. We’re always the victims and we never speak about ways to take back our sovereignty (not queendom) and personal power even in the face of the worst tyranny.

I was watching a short clip of Iyanla fix my life where Rick Ross’s ex fiance was on. He was engaged to her when she was just 22 and it fizzled out not long afterward. She was a stripper and he met her at the strip clubs.

She said

I’d like our black men to value us and they don’t. When I’m angry I like to drink, I like the way it makes me feel. It makes me forget my pain, my hurt, my heartbreak.

We’ve gone to such extents of projecting our shadows on men when they don’t act in a way pleasing to us as if they are innately obliged to do so, because we want to cancel out the inner pain by outer pleasure. And as long as we come from a displaced place, as long as we don’t belong in our own bodies, our own psyche, our own being, we’ll continue to seek out people who mask just as we do. No one can face another’s shadow. It’s unique to who you are and is part of your journey.

The offensive and oppressive structures and constructs are also a part of the journey. They aren’t permanent fixtures because they weren’t created by God. But they will remain for as long as we turn away from our own oppression that we mete out against ourselves every time we erase our needs, every time we minimize our will, every time we discount our intuition, every time we let others disrespect us because we don’t want to seem too sensitive or difficult, every time we distrust our discernment. All those instances then play out in the world where we continue to live in circumstances where those coping mechanisms are active and necessary.

Seek harmony

Dare to discover what you contributed to your suffering. It’s difficult because it’d seem like it was all your fault. But it’s actually the opposite. You’re taking back your power by doing what is in your control. You can only be accountable for what you can control. And though your oversight or self-neglect or self-denial or self-hate isn’t grounds for bad things happening to you, it shows you how you took the first jab at yourself. The external situation is just amplifying your self sabotage. And that’s no small matter either. Just because it’s yourself you’re oppressing doesn’t make it any less serious than if someone else did the very thing you’re doing to yourself, or if you did that to someone else.

So be brave and face your wrongs against yourself. It takes courage because you have to revisit what originally made you turn against yourself, and that’s a lot of uncertainty and fear and anger. Don’t settle for pathology. Believe in abundance. Ask Allaah to provide you what you sought in others but weren’t given. Don’t make the cracks you fell through a grave, but make it a rainforest and let the trees you plant carry you to the surface. Leave the rock bottom better than you found it. Do your heart better than what those who let you down did.

Manufacture your own hope. This is a chance for boundless love and imagination, now that you’re not limited to people who don’t see you or refuse to feel you. Good riddance. Now gather yourself back together and ask Allaah to rain down love and abundance on you. And rectify the faulty and toxic mindsets that led you to and left you in a loveless and merciless place.

May you be forgiven for the injustices you inflicted on yourself, and may you be forgiven for being an apathetic bystander as others did you wrong. Aamin.

Dimensions of truth

It takes a lot of bravery to receive love unconditionally, as you are, with imperfections and insecurities that you believe make you repulsive or unlovable. Making space for your shadow to be loved beside you is one of the strongest things you’ll ever do. It’s hard, especially as a woman. It’s like we’ve cordoned off the part most in need of… most in need of love, light; love from our acceptance, light from our understanding of self. We’ve become so entrenched in our roles as nurturers that we’ve become a thing, separated from the whole, self-destructive almost as a punishment for needing the thing we so compulsively give away.

Catabolic love becomes a form of self-harm when it becomes a hollow receptacle for the antithesis of its essence , like comfort eating for starving the appetite of pain, or cutting to inflict pain in order to numb a different type of pain. It becomes mutated when our ego cuts our soul off the cosmic flow, breaking away from the harmonious cycle designed by the divine.When we defy or ignore our soul signals, we become rogue breakaway cells, cancerous, invasive, killing by refracting the life we were meant to be nourished by. We end up feeding others the starvation we feel, and not the fullness we intend to present.

Everything we touch is a fractal of our soul. Our ego is a hallucination we insist on others seeing. But others can’t see what is void of the divine light, now can they?

Femme fatale

The distorted feminine has a wounded and incomplete sense of her personal and sexual power. Her emptiness means that she needs to fill herself with the emotional and sexual energy of others. While seduction is one way to bring in energy and attention to feed her being, she also thrives on sexual and emotional entanglement to gain much needed personal power and energy from others.

Often using the sexual act as way to open the energetic connection, she sends out energetic hooks from deep within her wounded or empty sexual energy centre, so that she can latch onto, feed from and ultimately control the emotional, sexual and creative energy of her mate.

This creates deep energetic and emotional entanglement, where obsession, jealousy and co-dependence rule. The irony is that often the person who is being drained by her will think that the vampire is actually the person they need to “complete themselves” — a pervasive and toxic connect in itself.

The distorted feminine may create similar bonds through non-sexual relationships with friends, colleagues, children and even parents as a way to continually connect to and harvest the vital force of others.

— Diana Beaulieu

Read more about the concept of divine feminine energy, how it manifests when it’s distorted, and the return to the healed archetype here

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