You're Not Here To Serve

I don’t know where we picked up the story (undoubtedly some patriarchal conditioning), that women are here to serve, but it has become abundantly clear to me that rewriting this story is deeply enmeshed in my life’s work.

When a woman describes her life to me and tells the story of constantly being at the mercy of her children and partner’s needs, with little time and space for her to express her full self, I feel the fire burning within me.

It’s time for a revolution.

You are not here to serve.

As a mother of two young ones, I’m very intimate with the feeling of pressure and responsibility.

And while some moments ask for my surrender, and to find the joy in the chaos, the bigger theme of my life is that my needs matter.

That my desires deserve to take space.

That I’m not here to serve anyone.

The other day my son had a major melt down that was anything but pleasant for me.

After half an hour of holding space for him, he was over it completely and asked me to make him a sandwich.

How many women would have begrudgingly made the sandwich in that moment?

I told him that I needed 5 minutes of silence to reset in another room alone and then he could ask me his questions.

He pulled out his coloring book as I centred myself with some breathing in the next room.

After receiving that time for me, I was ready for the sandwich.

This is the smallest example of choosing my wellbeing over service.

I’m very comfortable receiving, not only from my man, but also from my children.

To take my place on my throne.
As the Queen of my home.

The Queen of my man’s heart.

And the Queen of my own.

Will you join me in this revolution?

P.S. I have three more spots in She Who Receives. We begin August 2nd.

With love,

Diana