How I found my power
I didn’t know she lived in me. For the first 27 years I had only had glimpses of her. Her voice would come through in the most important moments of my life: when I first entered the Department of journalism in Moscow State University, when I had first sex with my first boyfriend, when I phoned the magazine I had always dreamt of working in, when I decided to move to South Africa, when I returned to Johannesburg despite being asked not to, I changed cities and moved to Cape Town, when I started my first business, when I fell in love with my future husband, and now, when I am about to give birth to our first child.
She has always been there, but it is only recently that I have started listening to her, seeing her and getting to know her on a daily basis.
She is a woman in me. She has lived many lifetimes. She knows a truth from a lie. She recognises love. She also respects passion, she believes life to be bland without it. She is brave, honest, determined and unstoppable. She is me, but I am only becoming her.
Largely I am still a girl. Dependant on her mother’s approval and needing support, like I am about to fall over at any moment. Not giving myself a chance to stand on my own. Allowing myself to be disrespected, manipulated and dictated to. Suppressing my real feelings and needs, acting from a place of pain, from a need for recognition. This is me too.
The transition from maidenhood to womanhood coincided with finding true love, falling pregnant and starting a family. An important part of it is separating from my mother. All of it could not be more archetypical, really.
I am thankful to my inner woman who is guiding me. Every day I align myself to her deep stillness within. To her knowledge and knowing, her trust and confidence. All I need to do is go inward and connect with her. Her answer is always there, and the choice is mine: do I take responsibility and stand on my own or do I look for someone to lean on, not allowing myself my power? The old patterns of the mind run deep. When a difficulty arises I look for someone to fall on to — my mom, my man, my friends. Everyone can catch me, but for the first time in my life, I am ready to catch myself.
To be honest, I’m not even falling.
My roots are strong. The have been running through Earth for many years. They have given life to many fruit trees, and every generation is stronger than the one before. I am allowing this strength, and letting it blossom.