The following contains explicit content: suicide, nudity, sexual trauma
I will not tiptoe around this nor will I dress it up in pretty prose. This is the beautifully, messy, rawness of healing.
Litha, also known as Midsummer and Summer Solstice coincided with the The Strawberry full moon this year. Litha is one of three other sabbats in the wheel of the year where the veil between worlds is thin. It is a time of vibrant energy, celebrating the fullness of life and the power of the sun. The Strawberry Moon carries the essence of abundance, sweetness, and the peak of growth, mirroring the lushness of nature during this time. Additionally, the full moon's energy reveals what has been hidden, bringing clarity and insight. It marks the climax of the lunar cycle, a moment of heightened energy and completion. As the moon begins to wane after its full phase, it is a natural time to let go, to shed the old and prepare for the new cycle.
I have recently returned from an extended stay in the southlands. While I had many experiences that were wonderful, my time there was incredibly taxing. I mustered what little energy I could and prepared a simple ritual celebration. I saged the space and sat with my tarot and oracle cards, The Dark Wood Tarot and The Heroine's Journey Oracle. I received the message with a level of clarity and understanding that was undeniable. It was the story of the last decade of my life and what was necessary of me to move forward.
It began on July 4th, 2014 when I awoke to be sexually assaulted by a family member - someone I had loved and trusted deeply. The betrayal and violation went far beyond what happened to my body. My entire world as I knew it crumbled, the echoes of which rippled for years to come. Then came the stark realization that my family was wholly unwilling and incapable of supporting me the way I needed beyond a roof over my head and food in my belly. There was but one person that showed up and held space for me, and she was not not blood. In the ensuing years of confusion, chaos, and self-destruction came this beacon of hope.
“It’s said it takes seven years to grow completely new skin cells.To think, this year I will grow into a body you never will have touched.” ― Brett E. Jenkins
At the time, seven years may as well have been an eternity. I clung to it desperately as the only hope I had that someday I might be able to take a breath without the overwhelming desire to tear away the tainted skin that bound the festering pain writhing beneath. I took my peace and joy where I could - making a million mistakes along the way. I clawed my way through the shards of glass of who I was BEFORE with a blind, often desperate yearning, that there was a “better”. Seven years have passed. The relief I have felt in my body, mind, and spirit are beyond words. There was much that still lingered.
Since then, two other men have committed acts of abuse and subjugation against me and dared to call themselves a friend and a partner. While I have the tools now to cope, process, and move on from what has been done to me, the unexpressed rage of these violations never saw the light of day. I attempted to douse that wildfire with a weighted blanket of sorrow.
You see, I tried to do the “spiritual” thing by taking the “high road.” I extricated myself from these situations with quiet grace in silent protest. I have no regrets for the manner in which I conducted myself. I acted with love and integrity until the very end, for that is who I am. I do regret never giving voice to the suffering of my body and my broken heart from the disillusionment of seeing someone for who they really are.
Nearly a year later I find myself at war with my ex in my mind. There are moments when I seek peace, forgiveness, and understanding. In others I seek bloody vengeance. After weeks of battle, I am weary and I find no peace or resolution. I can neither move on nor let go. I cry often, unwilling to wait another seven years to live in a body that hasn’t been violated in the name of love.
I sat on this Litha evening, staring at cards before me. The Three of Teeth oracle card calling for my attention. As I focus upon it, I feel the veil lifting and the portal of change opening to me. The very precipice of the AFTER I have sought for nearly a decade. I close my eyes and I enter the Dark Wood - the Shadow realm of my inner psyche based on the Dark Wood Tarot.
Entering the Dark Wood:
I came to awareness in the setting of a core memory I made while on the island of Maui in 2021.
I sat nude and alone in a hot tub at the top of the hill. It overlooked a gulch, now flooded with the heavy rainfall, that opened into the ocean. A raging tempest whipped my wet hair into my eyes and pelted my flesh with icy needles of rain. Tendrils of steam danced above the bubbling waters, yet it gave me no comfort against the chill of the storm without and within.
It was the night of the full moon, but the cloud cover blanketed all else in pitch black.
I arose from the water and began walking into the void of night. Though I could not see, my steps were sure of their path and direction. I walked to the edge of the ravine, feeling my way on the narrow and winding path down.
Long grasses and thin branches flogged every inch of exposed skin, raising welts and tearing flesh. The cold and jagged rocks cut into my feet and legs, drawing blood and making each step more slippery than the last. I walked slowly and steadily as my blood mingled with the rain and the earth.
I reached a flat surface where a pool of water collected before spilling over the edge in what was now a waterfall. I stepped into the pool, wading to the edge where the water reached mid-thigh. I waited there - I didn’t know for what reason or for how long. I simply waited.
At this point I came back to reality and began to sob violently, as the realization dawned on me that I have been waiting my whole life. Waiting to be saved, waiting to be truly seen, waiting to be enough, waiting for reciprocity, waiting to make a move only after I have assessed that it will cause the least amount of inconvenience to those I serve, waiting for rest and rejuvenation, waiting for my life to be my own. I sat with this for sometime, honoring this grief. Despite all that, I took a breath, returned to the Dark Wood, and resumed waiting at the ledge.
I passed the test.
The curtain of clouds lifted and the goddess moon revealed herself in her fullness, granting permission. Her silvery light coruscating atop the raging waves below. I waited no longer. With arms raised to offer my gratitude, I leaned forward, gravity pulling me down until my body sank beneath the waves and crashed upon the rocks below. I could finally rest.
Though the clouds threatened to swallow the goddess, she remained my steady witness as the waves raked my body against the ocean floor, shredding my flesh and bones until nothing was left and every last drop of blood was swallowed into the deepest, darkest depths of the sea.
When I came to awareness again, I felt no physical sensation at all. I heard the gentle lapping of the water - audio memory told me it was water gently moving over me. I struggled to open my eyes. I could not feel my eyes nor any part of me, and so I willed myself to see. A blur of color came to be and I heard the soft humming of a lullaby from my childhood. As my vision came into focus, I saw the face of my grandmother from when I was child. She held my decimated body in her arms, rocking me gently in a small pool of clear water. She smiled lovingly, though I could see the sadness and knowing in her eyes.
She lifted me from the water then gently wrapped me in a cocoon of soft white cloth. She carried me to the center of a circle of Grandmothers - the Crones. They sang and danced around me, showered me with praise and love. My pain was their pain; the pain of my mother, my grandmother, and every woman before me.
I began to shiver violently; a biting cold sensation prickling within my body. My grandmother lifted me from the circle and carried me to a hot spring where she unwrapped the cloth from my body and placed me in the water. My flesh was whole and undamaged. She sat with me quietly until my flesh turned pink with life.
She carried me from the hot spring and laid me upon a beautiful stone altar in a meadow. She stayed with me as the Grandmothers went foraging through the forest. The sun was bright as it glittered through the canopy. The altar was warm, its heat radiating into my bones. I felt empty and weightless. There was nothing for me to do or think. I simply existed and received the full love and attention of my grandmother, the love and support of the Grandmothers, and the love and grace of the Great Mother.
The Grandmothers returned with their skirts full. They laid their treasures gently upon my body, taking great care around my vagina. They arranged the leaves, flowers, mosses, and stones into a living gown. They sat with me in silence, basking in the sacred womb of the Great Mother. My body began to absorb the pieces of Self that I had spent the last decade recovering until I was whole once more.
I felt compelled to write about this experience. I wanted to remember it in as much detail as possible. To capture the raw and visceral culmination of the most painful and challenging journey of my life. Even for myself, this has been the most difficult and rewarding exercise in writing I have ever attempted. Reaching for the words to convey the fullness of this experience was as cathartic as the experience itself.
It’s been a week since my rebirth and awakening - since I crossed the threshold to finally choose myself. I have not fully integrated that experience; I imagine it will take quite some time. I feel fundamentally changed in ways that are seen and so many more that are yet unseen. Most notably is a deep sense of peace and an undeniable knowing that I am loved and supported at all times. I have a clearer sense of connectedness to the Flow and my nature.
Shortly after this experience, my cycle began. I celebrated this blessing as if it were my first blood. A gift from the Great Mother, that my body is once again my own. Along with the return of Self, these are symbols of my vision that have come to light.
In 2021, I went to Maui - known as the heart chakra of the islands - for healing and a reset. I was invited and hosted by a dear cousin with whom I had lost touch with several years ago and had recently reconnected with. It was she who took us to an eco-resort to enjoy the full moon in a hot tub overlooking the ocean. The night we went there was a raging storm, and there was a point that we were miraculously blessed with a sudden opening of the clouds to see the whole full moon as it illuminated the ocean and the gulch. I think of this memory often, and so it is no surprise that it became the setting for this vision.
I believe the hot tub represented my comfort zone. A space that was “safe”, only in familiarity, though it was never comfortable (i.e. the warm water would never provide enough heat against the wind and rain).
Leaving the hot tub and walking into the darkness represents my walking away from everything I knew - people, places and things. Healing has been mostly a blind journey forward of seeking and experimentation. I made many mistakes along the way, many of which hurt myself and others. Being flogged by branches was likely my penance.
I have given and over given myself in service to those around me my whole life. It was how I was taught to be and it was the only way I knew how to give and bid for love. This pattern has promulgated self-sabotage and deteriorated my wellbeing throughout all aspects of my life. When I allowed myself to fall from the ledge, it wasn’t enough for me to die. I needed there to be nothing left of me to take.
If the Dark Wood is my Shadow, then the womb of the Great Mother is my Light. When I arrived, my grandmother never left my side. I have always felt that my grandmother was the only person in my family who loved me unconditionally. I never had to perform for her love. She never weaponized it; never used it to coerce me into behaviors that pleased her, or pulled her love away as punishment if I displeased her. I was never asking for or being “too much”; she was always happy to give me her full attention and care when I wanted it. She held me, cradled me, and cuddled me until she was gone. She loved - she loves - me wholly. Her presence in overseeing what was done to me be made right is a testament of that love.
In the final act, I was placed upon an altar and decorated. This served as a reminder that I was never meant to be a sacrifice. I am worthy of love and celebration. I am nature, and nature is me.
What I have achieved for myself is true freedom. It came at the cost of everything I was. I’ve heard that a thousand times, but you don’t know until you know.
May this story serve as inspiration to never give up on yourSELF.
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