Whether we like it or not, and whether it’s logical or not, it’s extremely common for women to want to please men. Somewhere, buried deep in the recesses of our brains lies this vestigial microchip that compels us to acquiesce, to go along with men’s desires and wishes, and to silence our own self-advocation, truth and voice. I’m not referring to circumstances of fear necessarily… rape, assault, coercion, etc.
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And with that, the Goddess rose and released her great wings into the wind like sails. The sun caught the shimmering scales of her feathers, casting a resplendent iridescence across the sky. She nodded to the woman before ascending to the opal heavens like a magnificent bird, beaming telepathically through her amethyst eyes, "My dear, you must believe."
Sometimes Life flows with extraordinary ease and momentum, slipping into place like the clutch of a new Porsche. Other moments slog on as though the atmosphere were some kind of ectoplasm, miring my efforts and endeavors in a sludge of ineffectual suspension. I genuinely despise such moments… there’s really no other way to say it, and I’d be lying if I claimed to be graceful and accepting of such roadblocks to my flow.