“In the ’70s, my mother gave me a print that read: A woman needs a man like a fish needs a bicycle. After 25 years of marriage, I couldn’t disagree more.” Larissa Phillips
By: Gabriela Yareliz
I read Larissa Phillips’ The Free Press piece with intrigue, as I am sure many of us did.
If you look around at the biological confusion/disassociation around us (we’ll call it that), after much study, arrows seem to point to attachment and safety in childhood. If we remove religious interpretations and look purely at biological elements as the factors— we see a giant wound with the masculine that has left a crater in the world and society. Add the complexity that women carry the emotions and traumatic experiences of their lineage in their pelvis, womb and ovaries, and you’ve got a real mess.
Women’s infertility (when it is the woman; it is 50/50) and menstrual issues, often gets attributed to a lack of safety. The conditions that lead to a shut down are often originating in a deep emotional trigger.
Women’s pain and autoimmune issues often stem from the imbalance of feeling unsafe and trying to essentially become the masculine to feel safe. I heard recently from a practitioner that women’s thyroid and adrenal issues can be traced back to a woman spending herself and trying to match a man’s energy. Men have 17x more testosterone than women. Can you imagine the insanity of trying to match that as a woman? But we do it— ALL THE TIME.
We have no choice in a lot of things that affect us— whether our grandfather was unfaithful to our grandmother and how she carried that anguish, whether those in our lineage felt abandonment and lack of safety, the relationships our parents had with their parents and our grandparents with theirs. Our parents’ relationship to each other and whether they caused each other pain. Single parenthood. Men not being protectors. Our own childhood adaptations that helped us survive. What is in our control is now. What we do now. How we show up in our relationships, now.
If femininity requires safety, connection and vulnerability— how are we striving for that? How do we provide our own safety? How do we allow others to provide it to us? The ability to open a bank account, buy property and make our own money has helped us better survive the failings and wounds of the masculine— let’s be real. But what should our default be? How do we give the next generation less trauma?
When we find a worthy, good man who offers us safety and connection, how do we begin dropping the pieces of armor and heal the wounds that have led us to try to live beyond our biological means?
How do we begin forgiving others and ourselves for all we did not know?
None of those have easy answers, but seeking those answers is necessary. As a society, we are out of alignment. If we look around us, we see wounding everywhere. Healing just can’t be optional.
Every day, we begin again. Every day is a gift. Every day, we can adjust the compass a bit more so we can arrive to the true destination. So we can arrive whole and light.
I heard a message recently that highlighted that one of the only places we see the word “easy” in Scripture is when Jesus invites us to trade in our baggage for His yoke.
“Come to me, all you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you and learn from me, for I am gentle and humble in heart, and you will find rest for your souls. For my yoke is easy and my burden is light.” Matthew 11:28-30
His way is different. His way unburdens us. And while no journey is truly easy— taking His way offers us rest, He says.
Isn’t it interesting that the feminine is also lighter and softer— it rests in safety. It’s the softness, not pushing through, that heals us.
If we are to be healed, one of the first steps is laying down our armor and weapons. You can’t mow a lawn with a water sprinkler. Our design matters. Often, healing is found in a surrender and vulnerability. It starts with an acknowledgment of our weariness.
GABRIELA YARELIZ 