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The Forgotten Women

Updated: Jul 11, 2022


By Jessenia Nozzolillo


She was raised in silence, afraid of her footprint and fearful of her heart. Scared that loving too deeply would only lead to pain, criticism, and judgment while being taught that sacrifice was safer.


She was taught to hush the thoughts that crept in when uncertainty sprang its weary head and to ignore how it had never actually kept uncertainty away, getting used to feeling unsafe and defenseless.


She was taught to fear the howl of the wolf calling its sisters in the darkness. Fear their power as they prowled in skill. She was taught the lion is king when it is the lionesses that bond to protect the livelihood of the children and the continuation of the species fierce and proud.


She was taught to fear the hand of authority, never to be authority or in her power. She would rip her body apart to give life, only to have that life raise its hand and voice at her in demand of more.


She was taught that the changes that brought life also brought spoil to the body. That her vessel was only good for its view and seduction. Her precious skin and existence having no other value but servitude.


She was taught that in love and learning, there is shame. Shame in change, in freedom, sexuality, connection, and expression. Wanting more, loving deeply, screaming in satisfaction, seeking self-gratification, loving the vessel she was given—SHAME.


She was taught to be forgotten. To disappear into the crevasses of fear and limitation. To be only an afterthought, when the ocean has calmed, and the sky is still, and the Earth has stopped shifting, fires stopped blazing—will we be heard?


But the worst part? She continues to forget herself.


She continues, even after the lessons in limitation stopped coming, she is her own prisoner, keeper, and enemy.


The words still ring deep in her mind. The moments they convinced her of her unworthiness, making her comfortable with being unloved, feeling alone, incapable, never enough. Never seen, heard, or truly met. Never to be treated with the same love she so freely gives. She calls the limitations and labels out over and over again, forgetting herself, feeling safer in sacrifice because the world has convinced her in so many ways that sacrifice is the safest use of her power.


But, I need her to remember. The world needs her to remember.


I need her to remember that the Earth quakes with her footsteps, and that awakens the riverbeds feeding life.


Her guidance and wisdom necessary, like the trees that spring from the depths of Earth, granting the blessings of oxygen.


The sea calls to her cycles, speaking with the moon with every drop of her blood. She is the divine portal for Spirit here on Earth. The continuation of Spirit and life.


The wind was made to tether her hair and amplify the beauty of her song and words.


The fire burns as powerfully as her passion for life and love.


The space she takes is sacred space for healing, protection, and authentic expression.


Her heart was made to heal the world when she first dares to heal herself.


Her body is a map of the life she’s given and taken in the moments she’s lived and left her legacy in the hearts she’s touched.


Her howls a beautiful inspirational symphony to those unafraid and ready for release. Her roar, a precious call inspiring the generations that follow.


I want her to remember that it’s time for her to be freed. And in her freedom, the world is a safer and more powerful place. In her freedom, we are all freed.


I need her to hear me when I say, it’s time to let her rise from the ashes of her uncertainty, because she is no longer forgotten and hushed for the comfort of the scared.


art: Wolf Druid by Matt Kedzierski


Copyright Protected Jessenia Nozzolillo 2022


This was given to me as I worked with Spirit to awaken my divine feminine. I hope it helps you reunite with yours in all its magic.


💜✨

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