The Femininity Experiment

Since I value honesty and openness, especially in the pro blog and yoga worlds where we are under a constant barrage of pressure to be exceptional, I have a confession to make: Often, I don't feel comfortable in my biologically female body and recently I've been feeling less and less connected to the feminine divine and even more resentful of this somewhat broken vessel than usual. To not be totally accepting of myself in all my fertility goddess glory makes me feel like a fraud. What am I doing with this blog? Wasn't my original goal to try to inspire other women to accept their curves and fight the sinewy yoga body ideal? Yoga and acceptance for all, right?

Somewhere I lost my way.

Every day over the past few months, I've looked in the mirror hating what I see, not seeing my soft fullness, cellulite and scars for what they've brought me through, but only sending bile back at myself for not being a feather-weight yoga guru. Let me tell you, self-hate is no way to inspire yourself to go to the gym or have a daily yoga practice. No. If you're anything like me, you'll just carbo-load your emotions, go back to bed and completely neglect all the little rituals that make you feel better. I didn't even realize my self-image had gotten so bad, since most American women share this angst to some degree, until I befriended two women who don't buy in to that bullshit. They actual dig their bodies. I can honestly say that they might be the first American women I've ever met who don't in some way hate their corporeal forms. They are not super models. They are just normal women who don't waste time with self-hate.

Meeting them put a rather harsh mirror up to my face.

But not the way you (I) might expect. For the first time it dawned on me how much of my life is spent on comparing myself to other women and constantly tearing myself down. It's a thought-pattern that's hard to avoid. Women in our culture are trained from a young age to hate each other and view each other as competition, in dating, fitness, employment and even among female family members. It's passed from mother to daughter, both in warnings of other women and cruel, damaging behavior to each other. But when every woman you meet is playing that same game, it becomes a matter of course, of survival. The rules of The Game require harsh self-judgment to ensure you'll be better than all other women in this twisted beauty pageant of life.

But what happens when you meet a lady who doesn't play The Game?

At the first, my own nastiness and pettiness was starkly highlighted for me, as was my lack of self-confidence. Without cause to turn the magnifying glass on them, I turned the magnifying glass on myself, trying to pick out exactly how I had become a nasty, petty, self-loathing creature, which, naturally, only leads to more self-loathing. Doesn't that sound like a party? When you're the only one in the room wasting all of that time and energy on a ridiculous game of Mean Girls, the utter futility of it all becomes really clear with the resounding question:

Why the fuck would anyone do this to herself or others?

Is it fun? Does it help anyone? Does it make the world a kinder place? Does it line up with yoga or Buddhism, the soul of my soul? I think you know the answer. So, today I'm starting over.

I vow to be kind to myself.
I vow to stand up for myself.
I vow to extend grace to myself and others in order to cause no harm.
I vow to stop consuming media that tells women we are worthless.
I vow to be vocal against the casual misogyny that fuels The Game.
I vow to never engage in The Game ever again.
I vow to spend time on myself and stop being a people-pleaser.
I vow to not be afraid of being hyper-aware of my body through Asana.
I vow to honor the Feminine Divine daily.
I vow to start giving myself twice-monthly pedicures, again.

No matter your gender identity, will you join me in these vows?
(Okay, maybe not the pedicures, but [insert your own ritual that makes you feel radiant here].)

-Namaste-

Embracing the Feminine Divine

I have always been a little jealous of those rare Earth Mother types who truly revel in their femininity, whose Moon Cycles are a source of joy, who are brave enough to embrace their bodies in their natural states and not force themselves into the impossible boxes the rest of us spend our lives trying to fit. I wonder how these women are able to find such self-acceptance in the face of the sea of voices telling us we are wrong at our core. Whether its how we should dress, who we should sleep with, how fat/thin we should be, what our boobs should look like, how we should age (or, rather, not age), how we should hide our periods, how hairy we should be, when/if we should become mothers, what jobs we should take or what our sexuality should look like, everyone's opinion seems to be valid except for the individual woman. And, to be quite honest, it really gets me down some days. I can be quite unkind to myself sometimes, echoing these sentiments of a diseased culture that tells women their natural bodies are an abomination, and that sort of self-talk does nothing but make me feel chained to my body, instead of comfortably settled in it.

When I need to snap myself back into a place of gratitude for the gift of a female physicality, I get into a pose of strength like the Warrior Pose followed by a position of submission like the Extended Puppy pose, repeating them and similar poses to be reminded of my own power and the collective power of all women to nurture and heal. I also do everything I can to support my feminine health throughout the month to make my Moon Cycle less unpleasant, mostly with tea like Woman's Energy and Raspberry Leaf from Yogi brand teas and dietary supplements like powdered cranberry to keep my urinary tract healthy and a garlic-based supplement to keep my natural flora in balance.

Two cups of raspberry leaf tea make my debilitating menstrual cramps completely disappear without nasty painkillers (thanks to my friend, Kacie, for suggesting it). I was skeptical, but it actually (miraculously) works. Also, drinking a cup of Woman's Energy, which is Yogi Tea's take on the ancient Dong Quai formula, every night throughout the month greatly reduces my PMS symptoms when its about that time. When all of my systems are running smoothly, it is certainly much easier to appreciate woman-hood.

*Kali*

When I'm feeling small and powerless against the patriarchy, I remember the stories and traditions of ancient goddesses like Kali, fierce Hindu goddess of time and worshiped by some as the redeemer of the universe, or Demeter, the ancient Greek goddess of growth, fertility and the changing seasons. In a society overwhelmed with images of male warriors and deities, it is comforting to remember the ancient belief in the feminine divine within all of us.

Today, I am most thankful for the women, both online and in my personal life, who I can turn to with my concerns and self-doubt. Without these wise women, I would be lost. I have been blessed with truly great female presences in my life.

*To my female readers, what makes you most thankful to be women?*