Gratitude: A Mother's Day Reckoning
Since my last blog, I’ve been meditating on the Goddess’s first act of creation:
She did not begin with judgment.
She did not begin with punishment.
She did not begin with separation.
She began with ILLUMINATION.
She spoke light into spiritual and physical darkness, and then created a womb—a space—for that light to grow.
This is the heart of the divine feminine:
To bring order to chaos
Light to darkness
And connection where there was once disconnection.
Yeshua reflected this truth when he said: “Do to others what you would have done to you,” and “Love your neighbor as yourself.”
But the deepest evidence of this law isn’t just in sacred texts— it’s in the LIVING WORD of our bodies
You’ve probably heard me talk about microchimerism—the process where a child’s DNA stays in the mother’s body long after birth.
But were you aware this also happens with men who penetrate her?
Depending on the studies you look at, it’s anywhere from 21-63% of women that carry male DNA in their brain, and there are only four ways male DNA cells are likely to show up in the female brain:
* Unknown abortion
* Possibly a vanished male twin
* Older brother transferred by the maternal circulation
* Sexual intercourse
When sperm enters the body, it doesn’t just leave.
It can seep into tissues, travel through the bloodstream, and lodge in places like the spine, brain, even behind the eyes and ears.
Every man a woman has sex with leaves a cellular imprint—one that remains forever.
So while science likes to separate the spiritual from the physical, the truth is:
Every act of sex is a moment of creation.
It’s not just a physical exchange—it’s an energetic, chemical, spiritual bonding.
The woman’s brain, her future children, and her spiritual clarity are all affected.
Ancient mystics understood what science is now catching up to:
We are all connected through the Mother.
How we treat Mother Earth, and how we treat women, affects every soul that comes through her.
Even more profound—a child’s DNA inside the mother works to heal her.
The child gives the mother what she needs to survive.
This is divine law
This is coded into how we function.
This is the body’s sermon on love.
The mother takes in nourishment in order to give.
The child reflects what was given.
And the mother’s capacity to nourish is often shaped by her community.
Did she feel safe?
Did she rest?
Was she held while she held life inside her?
I’ve been feeling into this truth in my own relationship with my mother and recognizing she was giving from an empty cup to a family that had more needs than she could care for.
This is what I’ve come to understand..
The gift of a child is to be the mirror.
First in the womb. Then in the world.
Many of us dissociate from our own chaotic upbringings, but then our children reflect back the healing we never received.
In the womb, this reflection is cellular in how the child gives energy to heal the mother.
After birth, it becomes visible—through their health, body shape, emotional responses.
And as adults, we become the walking testimony of what was invested in us.
We are the illumination of what happened in the dark.
This Mother’s Day
I’m not here to wrap things in flowers and platitudes.
I’m here to honor what is real.
That true mothering—true goddess embodiment—is the willingness to face the darkness, and instead of casting it out, illuminate it with love.
I’m learning to look at the parts of my mother that still trigger the little girl in me…
Not to punish her.
Not to seek revenge.
But to bring connection where disconnection once lived.
Because that’s the role of the sacred child:
To hold a light toward the lineage.
To become part of the repair.
To become the womb for a new reality.
And that work isn’t always beautiful.
It isn’t always wrapped in grace and clarity.
The story behind the deficit
I didn’t grow up with much praise or affirmation, and I felt a distinct difference with how my mother took special effort to praise and protect the more rebellious siblings.
My heart learned early: your best isn’t worth celebrating, and you’re on your own.
That wound carried.
It still echoes.
Even now, as my mom and I walk the long road of reconciliation,
I notice how much it still hurts.
I send voice notes—offering my heart, sharing my work, giving glimpses of who I’ve become…
And what comes back is silence.
No “That’s interesting.”
No “You’ve really grown.”
No “I’m proud of you.”
Just an inbox reverberating with a 44-year-old ache.
But this time, I didn’t let it fester.
I left her a message—raw and honest—not to accuse, but to reveal.
I told her how painful it is to feel unseen and unacknowledged after all these years. That I’m not looking for agreement or doting—just acknowledgment.
She called me back right away. Apologetic. Shaky-voiced. Tears threading through her words. She said she had listened and read everything I sent, got distracted with a busy life, and when she went back she didn’t know how to respond.
She was afraid.
And I got it.
We’re both learning.
We’re both healing our wounds.
And honestly, I was fighting everyone and everything before because I felt so unsafe.
So I shared something with her—Dr. Emoto’s rice and water study. In the experiment, jars of rice were either spoken to with love, hate, or ignored.
The rice spoken to with love stayed white and began to ferment.
The rice cursed at turned black.
But the rice ignored did even worse. It rotted from neglect.
I explained to her: Neglect wounds the soul even more than hate does. Because at least hate means you matter enough to provoke a reaction. But silence? Silence says you’re not even there. You don’t care enough to be there or put any effort in.
And something cracked open between us.
In that moment, we weren’t mother and daughter locked in an ancient survival pattern.
We were two women—tender, scared, willing—trying to build something new.
I told her: I bring this up not to shame you, but because I am committed and feel we are able repair this.
Then explained: This is what illumination is. Not blame. Not punishment. But the courage to bring light into what’s been dark for far too long.
That’s the work!
Here’s what I’m learning
Our mothers are not the end of the story.
They are part of a story still being written.
They are reflections of the care they received, the damage they endured, the love they lacked.
And when they gave us life, something was taken from them too.
Unless someone mothered them, they often poured from hollow cups.
This is why Mother’s Day is more than brunch and bouquets.
It’s a sacred invitation too ask:
How can we come alongside our mothers with the wisdom we’ve gained to facilitate their nourishment and growth?
How can we invest back into the woman who birthed us—physically, emotionally, spiritually?
We ended our talk with me inviting her into The Initiation.
Not to fix her.
Not to force anything.
But to walk hand-in-hand toward repair.
Not everyone will be called to this kind of reckoning.
But if you’re feeling the nudge…
If you’re ready to stop avoiding the mess and start illuminating it…
Then perhaps this is your Initiation.
I’ve created a sacred space…
for those ready to initiate their reconnection with the Divine Mother within—the Source of life that teaches us how to truly care for ourselves.
As far as I can see, everyone is carrying some version of a mother wound, and many do not or did not have an earthly mother who is able to nurture, affirm, or guide them.
This space is for those ready to initiate the repair.
Not through bypassing pain, but by illuminating it with love.
By restoring our connection to the Divine nurturance within, we begin to restore our connection to ourselves and our Creator.
And from that place, we become capable of repairing the broken threads between us and others—whether through betrayal, silence, or time.
This is how we become the womb for a new reality.
Not in spite of our wounds, but because we finally choose to heal them.
🌹 This is The Initiation.
And you are ready.
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