The Holy Rage of Wolves, Based on a Dream & Reality

I've been feeling the pain for a while now. Something inside of me, growing, demanding to come forward. I stuffed it down, because that's what I've always done.

Hide. It's safer if no one sees.

Inside my heart, I've felt it for a while now—this brewing, this steaming, this bubbling. Every now and then a little bit of it lets out. No worries though, I'm armed with apologies, ever quick to set my own needs and feelings aside for the sake of everyone else. I've done it for so long that I don't even have to think about it anymore. 

But there's something different this time. I feel like I just. can't. do. it. anymore.

All of the hurt, the disappointment, the sadness, and the weight of carrying these things alone is beginning to feel more like a holy rage. 

And I can no longer ignore it.

It manifests itself in my mouth, because that's where our thoughts materialize into the physical world. My throat hurts, my teeth hurt. Something is pushing its way out...

Suddenly, my teeth begin to crack. I panic! But there's nothing I can do. They begin to crumble and fall out. There's no hiding it now, for it's making it's way out. However, where there is loss, something begins to grow in their place. New teeth. Sharp teeth. Fierce teeth. Wolf teeth. 

I'm no longer just a meek, quiet, and submissive woman. 

No. Not anymore. No longer will I stay silent. No longer will I sacrifice. No longer will I be small. I will take up space. I will rise with strength. My container is strong enough to hold both my rage and my love with tenderness and ferocity. I move through my pain and sorrow and it no longer has a hold over me. 

I am becoming. 

I am no longer safe, I am no longer hidden.

You see all of me. And yet, you are not afraid. You love me even more and embrace my holy rage.