Becoming a Wild Woman

I was once that woman. The one who would judge others who were too free spirited. Too bold. Too daring.

Quietly judging the type that would strip her clothes and dive into the waters without a care of who might be watching.

Underneath that judgment was jealousy. And at the root of that jealousy was longing. The truth was that I wanted to reclaim my own wild like that, more than anything.

I wanted to be that woman. What I learned was that I already WAS that woman. She just had so much heavy bullshit and baggage piled on top of her that I couldn't feel her anymore.

So I dug in and went on a quest to strip myself raw. That feeling of embracing my wild was better than I ever could have imagined.

And the thing I realized is that if you don't like my cellulite dimples, stretch marks, and rolly belly while I swim naked, dance free, or run through the forest, you're welcome to look the other way, judging me the entire time if you'd like for being too much this or not enough that.

I'll be over here too busy not giving a f*ck.

But that said, there's an invitation here to join me. Reclaiming your wild feminine. Swimming naked in the wild waters of life. It's pretty cool. I think you'll like it.

One thing's for certain, once you try it, you'll never go back to that other way again.