I was pretty much born Venusian. Taurus sun, Libra rising on my sidereal chart. Gifted golden pearl earrings at birth by my hyperfeminine grandmother who had no daughter of her own. Nicknamed “Miss Priss” at age three for turning up my little nose at anything I found distasteful.
Nicknames aside, at an early age, I felt that there was something sacred about beauty, art, and love. Perhaps that they each harbored so many forms and were precious in each. I knew innately that there was power in peace and in adhering closely to the things that reside in each of our hearts.
As I grew, I forgot many of these things. I was taught other forms of femininity, many of them pertaining only to the physical and to the enjoyment of others in order to add worth and value to femininity. Makeup as a way of masking your insecurities rather than highlighting your features or expressing your mood; etiquette as an avenue for avoiding ridicule instead of appreciating the company of those around you.
The external validation I received for practicing femininity in these forms satiated my ego, but I did not feel the depths of feminine energy flowing within me. It seemed rather like a mask to don for as long as you could withstand it. Once, while journaling, I rationed that there must be more to the feminine than met the eye. After that, there seemed to never be enough compliments or romantic advances to quiet the question, and I began researching books and films that captured the essence of women.
I watched interviews of old Hollywood sirens, I read Shakespearian poetry and Jane Austen. I listened to Lizzy Grant and studied the book of Esther. I took milk and honey baths laden with rose petals like Cleopatra. I captured every moment in my black leather journal, enraptured by the intangible essence of womankind, although there at first appeared to be few commonalities.
With a nexus of energies undergoing constant evolution, how could I ever begin to understand it? How could I ever slow it down enough to study it? How could I harness the fountain within me if I didn’t even know how to get it to run?
As it turned out, the fountain could not–and likely should not–be harnessed. Womanhood was not something to be wielded in warfare, rather, something to be revered and adored.
The feminine world is trademarked by change. Its tides are in constant flux, oscillating between focal points of drawing ourselves inward for recovery or letting our passion be heard, between sovereignty and community, between harmony and the radical transformation that is sometimes required to reach it. Like its corresponding element of water, the feminine collective is everflowing, evermoving, everchanging. The only true constant is the energy of being, of presence in the moment.
The difficulty of being is that it is simple and always accessible. You are always something, but what is it? How aware are you of yourself outside of your tasks and nomenclature? Who are you outside of what you do?
These are the questions I asked myself and my guides (namely, Venus) when embarking upon this theme. What is the essence of feminine energy, and how is it expressed today? How can we make time to just be when we are near constantly bombarded with demands to produce?
My only answer so far is to make it a theme of your life, as it is currently on this platform, to listen to the voice of the goddess within you. Return your attention to the feeling of being in your body and discern what trails you are being called to follow, and what in your life is keeping you from surrendering to the downstream flow of delicious, vivacious feminine energy.
As you embark on this rendezvous with us through the remaining spring and summer months, we invite you to feel the bliss embedded in every experience and expression of authentic femininity. We invite you to recall the forgotten truths of girlhood, in which lipgloss, wildflowers, or a bubbly early 2000s pop song are their own sources of magic. We invite you to play with the lenses that you have long viewed life through, and if you feel inspired to do so, trade them in for a lighter, brighter pair.
Welcome to The Modern Venus.