When she surrenders.

I am smart. I am talented. I work hard.

I have created amazing successes for myself.

I have been blessed to stand on the shoulders of the pioneers of feminism and do what my ancestral woman could only dream of doing.

I believed I could do it all-and that I HAD to do it all.

Until this guy came into my life, and he critiqued my creations and told me how I could make them better.

My ego did not like that.

My ego called him a mansplainer.

My ego called him controlling.

My ego believed I didn’t need his or anyone’s help, because that would mean that I was that most pitiable of feminine characters: a helpless, dependent woman, unable to create her own life, solve her own problems- a woman at risk.

My ego takes its job of protecting me very seriously and does not want to give up control.

It likes to gorge itself on the righteous indignation of the NERVE of this guy!

It refuses to be intruded on by his provision.

His provision- his VISION for me and what I can do which is greater than my own.

Because my ego trusts no one but me.

And surrendering? Oh HELL no.

My ego is hiding a secret: It doesn’t trust life.

Now I know that trusting his provision and vision is trusting life.

Now I know that trusting life is loosening my ego’s white-knuckle grip on control, and it’s dependence on my independence.

Now I know that trusting is letting myself be penetrated, and not c*ck-blocking- his gifts and expertise.

Now I know that trusting is letting myself receive- and not c*ck-blocking- the provisional energies of the world.

Now I know that trusting is letting go of my belief that I have to provide myself with all my own answers to survive.

When I open to his provision of his gifts and expertise and tools- and the provision of life-

I feel my body relax and unwind.

The more I let go, the more I feel held, and the more I feel safe.

The safer I feel, the more I flow and play and expand and create what I love because I feel more at home with my true self.

This is not your mother's feminism- it's better.

This is NEW Feminism.

And this is P*ssytwinkle®.