My Relationship With The Masculine.

In January of 2017 I reached out to an old coach and dear friend of mine to set up a phone call and discuss options for working together. I was struggling in my then partnership and was looking for some type of non-bias outlet and support. We quickly decided that ‘coaching calls’ would be the best fit as we live several hundred miles apart and have always had a hard time syncing up in person. This was about a year and a half ago and since then I have learned much about myself, where I operate from, and the childhood wounds that I have carried with me for twenty-eight years.

Emotional healing of any kind requires patience and a lot of fucking honor. Though I have been fully committed to healing old wounds for the last year and a half, I don’t really have any control over when I will actually be healed. Only time does. It can sometimes feel like you are constantly discovering new information about yourself, you are then unsure if you will ever truly be able to piece it all together and fully heal. This work pushes you to your edge, then a bit further than your edge, then asks you to be patient and honor the fuck out of your edge. Sounds fun, doesn’t it?

It wasn’t until my former partnership officially ended in November of 2017 did I start to piece together my true relationship with the masculine. When I say “the masculine” I am referring to: my relationship with my father, my romantic relationships with men, and my embodiment of masculine energy (I am a fiery-aries female).

There was a defining moment a few months ago that stopped me in my tracks. Literally. The entire world went quiet and it was as if two missing puzzle pieces connected and the picture was so clear, for the first time. It was a sunny day, I had just finished dancing in Oakland, and was walking back to my car after a really delicious lunch. This was the moment I had been patiently waiting for; patiently honoring: total clarity on a wound I had been dissecting for a year and a HALF.

I seek validation through men.
I seek validation through masculine energy.
If I don’t receive validation through men, I am empty.
If I do receive validation through men, I am whole.

Fuck. Right?

Let me take you back in time and paint you a pretty little picture.

My parents were divorced by the time I was 5 and I have no memory of us being a family nor do I remember them being in love. My mom remarried within the next few years and that was the defining moment that led me to believe that I was no longer loved by her. So naturally, I became a daddy’s girl, because daddy never got remarried and I was his only girl (well, besides my older sister who was off living on her own at this point). My dad spoiled me rotten. Not with money, because we never really had much of that, but with his consistency, his capacity to always give me attention regardless of what was happening internally, and the fact that he always said “yes.” This began at age 5 and continued until, well I suppose it never really stopped. I just became aware. He was the dad that was at every single one of my volleyball games and tournaments. He bought tickets to every theatrical production I was in and attended every SINGLE show. He played catch with me after his 8-hour work day. He “hid” his cigarettes because he knew how much they disappointed me. He bought me my first dream car: a used 1997 automatic red jeep wrangler. Then a used 2003 black mustang. Then a used 1998 white jeep wrangler when I got sick of the fast bat mobile. He cooked all of our meals based on my naive ass palette. I wanted a kitten? We got a kitten. Do you get it yet? This man was amazing. He still is. He is the most giving human I have ever met and I would be a selfish-narcissistic-aries-asshole without his beautiful character.

However, with all of these beautiful selfless acts that my father provided come a lot of engraved bullshit within me. The child me and the adult me.

So, I have this full-body realization a few months back on the sunny streets of Oakland. I freeze. I lose my breath. I see the fully painted picture. Within the next few days, I will share this with my coach, learn to fully accept this realization, and then commit to healing this wound. Healing my relationship with the masculine.

One of my favorite teachers of meditation, Carlos Pomeda, was asked what the “point” of all this spiritual work was. His answer? Awareness. I have learned this to be true over the years of this conscious expansive internal work. Awareness is everything. Being aware of the self, how you operate, what patterns you default with, how you choose to hold yourself in this life, is absolutely everything. The reason I share this is because It took me a year and a half to discover that I seek validation through masculine energy. Since then, I have been actively working on rewriting this narrative. I am aware of my default behavior patterns. However, I am not done. Like, no where near being done. This work is actually never-ending. I believe you get to a point of being so aware, that eventually you shift your defaulting behaviors, and your narrative shifts, and so does your life.

It’s been a few months since that realization and I am doing the very best that I can. I am extremely mindful when I interact with all men, regardless if I have romantic interest or not. I am extremely aware of my exchanges with my father, especially when I am seeking for him to be “proud of me” for something I have done. I am having transparent and honest conversations with anyone who is willing to listen and relate. I am setting intentions in my meditation, yoga, and dance practices that are keeping me focused on ME. I am carrying around mantras with me that remind me that I am loved, I am worthy, I am smart, I am beautiful, I am proud, I am sexy, and I am whole. There are days where I feel like this piece of me will never be healed and there are days where I give myself a high-five because I am so proud of the baby steps I am taking. I am enjoying men and masculine energy with a new perspective: I am whole and everything in addition is a blessing.

Emotional healing is a fucking whirlwind but it is the greatest work I have ever committed fully to, right after motherhood.

Keep going you.
Don’t give up.

With Gratitude,


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