When I think about it, I’ve always favored men. I guess it makes sense being that I’m a heterosexual female. But it extends beyond romantic attraction—musicians, artists, athletes, basically most types of public figures. Outside of supermodels, it’s always been all about men for me. Lately though, I’ve been thinking more about female friendships, female artists, and how I’ve compartmentalized so much of my own feminine energy.
Growing up, I was closest to my boy cousins which naturally turned me into a little bit of a tomboy. I’d have a couple of quality girlfriends to hang with, but always thought guys were just easier to be around. Less drama, less cattiness, less emotion overall—or so I told myself. The truth was that I had an uncomfortable relationship with my own feminine energy. I was at odds with my sensitivity and softness, which is actually a large part of who I am. I leaned toward more balanced, androgynous styles and attitudes. Always identifying as female in the traditional sense, but never wanting to completely own and accept it.
I had a numerology reading for my birthday this year. I went in thinking I’d scheduled a year-ahead tarot reading, but the universe wanted something else for me. The reader related my numbers to their respective tarot cards. My destiny number is 3—The Empress. My life path number is 6—The Lovers. These two stuck out to me because of their innately feminine connotations. The Empress is tied to Venus, an expression of divine feminine and embodiment of beauty, love, pleasure, creativity, abundance. My soul number is 5—the Hierophant—representing tradition, institution, marriage, spiritual guidance. It really got me thinking. If all of this can be used as a framework for life, I’ve been living out of alignment.
2025 has really been a moment for me and my feminine energy. Less doing, more being. Prioritizing myself. Knowing my worth. Owning my value. Feeling attractive. Speaking kindly, gently, assertively. Indulging in scents, candles, fresh flowers. Emotional balance. Trusting and knowing that everything always works out. Guided by intuition. Surrendering to life. Taking aligned action. Cooking for myself. Expressing my feelings authentically. Gentler workouts. Loving my body. Loving myself.
It hasn’t always been a smooth ride—I’ve had my fair share of triggers during breakups and breakdowns this year. But instead of berating and shaming myself, I have compassion and understanding for myself. Allowing everything to run through me instead of “toughing it out.”
I’ve also noticed how this shift shows up in subtle ways. Like how I used to apologize for asking for help or worry that I was bothering people with my needs. There’s this internalized belief so many of us carry—especially as women—that needing support makes us a burden. We’re socialized to minimize ourselves, to not take up too much space, to hedge our requests with apologies. But asking directly for what you want without softening it or apologizing? That’s assertiveness. That’s owning your value. Catching myself in these moments, questioning why I feel the need to shrink, has become part of the practice.
Connecting with my light feminine side has been eye-opening. I also feel it’s important to find balance between my light and dark feminine energies. At this point, the light feminine feels familiar—the softness, the nurturing, the opening. But I’m still learning to embrace my dark feminine side: the part that doesn’t apologize, that holds firm boundaries, that magnetizes rather than chases.
I recently watched a documentary about Lilith Fair and how Sarah McLachlan started it because the music industry in the 90s was so male-dominated that she needed female friendships. She brought together Paula Cole, Sheryl Crow, Tracy Chapman, Erykah Badu, Fiona Apple, Jewel, and a whole gang of women to create the very first all-female music festival. It was inspiring to watch, and also eye-opening.
These were—and are—talented, driven, beautiful, luminous women who weren’t afraid to start something new despite all the backlash they got from the media. Sarah talked about how she was still coming into her own during the years the festival ran. Wavering confidence, dealing with people’s opinions, learning how to speak with confidence and stand up for what she and the rest of them had created. Finding and owning her voice.
The dark feminine is still unfolding for me, but it’s happening in real time. It’s the side that doesn’t apologize for taking up space, that sets boundaries without guilt, that walks away from what doesn’t align. It’s magnetic rather than performative, certain rather than accommodating. Watching Sarah McLachlan find and own her voice throughout Lilith Fair is one big example of what that looks like—not angry or aggressive, just unwavering. That’s the integration I’m working toward: holding both the soft and the firm, the open and the boundaried, the light and the dark.
