Our lineage as women begins, at least in part, with the story of Eve. Though a mythic tale that was created to help us understand our earliest origins, her story’s telling throughout time has been radically skewed to teach us that the woman from whom we descend has genetically imbued us with characteristics of sin and shame. We have been taught to sever ourselves from her. And because of such, we have lost much of our unique and inherent sense of self as a creation of the Divine, as blessed, as powerful, beautiful, and honored.
I want Eve’s legacy redeemed. In both metaphor and real ways, we descend from a beautiful, powerful, and perfect archetype of a woman of significance, honor, power, curiosity, protection, and love. Our legacy is not one of sin, selfishness, and shame. We are daughters of the Divine’s creation, descended directly from the queen of humanity, radiant, stunning, and glorious.
When Eve’s story is told this way, she shows up.
When she shows up, we can as well.
And when we show up – radiant, stunning, and glorious (as we truly, already are), everything changes.
Eve’s story is not the only one deserving and desiring to be (re)told. She is not the only she who longs for opportunity to show up. Our lineage is held as well in the stories of Hagar, Leah, Tamar, Mary; in every woman who tells a story of harm; in every harmed story of women. We bear their scars. We hold their hearts. And we carry within us their dimming spark that longs to be fanned, emboldened, and blazing.
Women will starve in silence until new stories are created which confer on them the power of naming themselves. ~ Sandra Gilbert and Susan Gubar
The women from whose legacy we descend have been left to starve. That has left us hungry, as well. And silence has pervaded. It’s time to feast. It’s time to speak. It’s time to honor and celebrate the lineage from which we descend. When that happens, she shows up and so do we.
A few weeks ago I wrote these words – prophetically and profoundly meaningful to me then and now:
I love retelling these stories because I can; because no one can tell me I can’t; because when I do I am the one who is restored, encouraged, strengthened, and redeemed.
When I show up she shows up. The she of these narratives I so love to (re)tell. The she of the Sacred Feminine. The she that inhabits each of us – radiant, stunning, and glorious.
And everything changes.