This Witch is Lit

Witness her with reverence, and we all rise in healing.

There is a flame inside a woman that burns like radiant sunshine.
It is ancient. Wild. Holy.

Many have feared this incandescent power.
He has tried to possess it, control it, tame it for his own gain.
She has tried to hide it, shrink it, disown it, for her safety.

The sheer force of this fire can feel dangerous.
Like a bomb needing to be diffused.
We’ve chased release instead of stoking the flame with reverence.
Dousing the fire became our survival strategy.

Because there was a time, not so long ago, when a woman lit from within was burned for it.
Radiance was a death sentence.
Erotic power was a threat to be extinguished.

This has been my experience too, for too many years.
But now, I choose a different path.
I choose to circulate this energy.
To let it rise from my yoni, through my heart, and beam out into the world.
In safety.
In self-assured brilliance.
In wild, untamed ferocity.

Not to seduce. Not to please.
But to stand. To shine.
To remind us all what’s possible
when a woman holds her own flame,
and is witnessed in her radiance.

Our erotic energy is not something to be tamed.
It is medicine for our fractured world.

The Problem – Repression for Survival

So many of us have learnt to extinguish our erotic fire before someone else tried to.

For safety.
To sidestep being confronting.
To vanish into a crowd of “good girls” who don’t stand out.

I’ve moved through phases in my sexuality, as I think most of us have…
Times of complete shutdown, where the safest thing felt like cocooning my energy, hiding myself, disowning my own body.
And on the other end of the spectrum, times when I was so wildly, frantically horny that it felt unbearable,
Like I was wired with explosives, and a single breath might trigger detonation.
Panicked into needing someone—a man—to fuck the fire out of me.

Not for connection.
Not for pleasure.
But to defuse something I didn’t yet know how to hold safely.

So I’d reach for a cock as the key to the pressure release valve.
Because somewhere deep in my body, I’d been taught:
Radiance is dangerous.
It’s better to shrink than to burn in the fire of exposure.

And woven into that impulse, a deep sense of shame.
The kind of shame that doesn’t belong to us, but lives in us as an ancient echo.
Passed down through generations of cultural conditioning that tells us:
To be seen in our sensual power is to invite punishment, violation, death.

So I hid my eros behind a stoic body of armour.

And when those feelings began to rise up and out, I was driven to call in the “bomb diffusal expert”,
The strong, capable man who could douse the intensity of my fire and make me feel safe again.
Safe in the familiar comfort of my own smallness.
A more manageable version of myself for everyone.
Less threatening.
Less alive.
Less visible.

Because holding all that firepower on my own?
That felt far too risky.

The Turning Point – A New Way to Relate to Eros

As I’ve matured, I’ve uncovered a determined, powerful drive to cultivate sovereignty, authenticity, and self-expression in my full essence.
My Eros is the current that animates my whole being.
When it flows, I am whole.

Where once I feared the intensity of my own erotic fire,
now I wonder:

What if this is the fire that ignites my creative power?
Could I choose to be the fierce and sacred firekeeper?
Building it intentionally, courageously, consistently.
Could I share it—without shame, without fear?

Might it help me forge heaven in my reality, right now, here on Earth?

Through practicing staying with sensation.
Coming back to my body again and again.
Choosing not to run, not to discharge it, not to hand over my power—just to feel.
I’ve expanded my capacity to hold this energy, own this energy, and be witnessed in my aliveness.

These are the practices that bring me home to myself.
Building my capacity to stay with the power that once terrified me.
Letting the erotic fire radiate through me, through life, for us all.

Erotic Energy as Medicine

When I do this, something inside me glows bright.
Warm.
Tingling.
Radiance.

My heart expands.
My body hums.
The fire is stoked—not to burn out, but to burn ever brighter.
And in this state, I don’t feel like I’m carrying something dangerous.
I feel like a sun.
A perpetual, renewable source of loving energy.

From this place of overflow, I choose to share.
Not because I need someone to take it from me,
but because I am full.
Because it is plentiful.
Because I want to.

This fire isn’t given in desperation, or with strings attached.
It does not ask for approval or beg for wood 😉
It is not built from attachment, obligation, or to satisfy entitlement.

It is an offering. Not a transaction.

And that kind of fire?
Doesn’t rely on anyone to light it.
It does not dim when lovers walk away.
It burns within me, and beyond me, in abundance for us all.
It is infinite.

This is the medicine I offer now.