The moon was waning, and I had started thinking of how Anubis kept telling me to “surrender”. So I bought some St Claire Rose`, and decked my altar in shades of pink and red with my newly consecrated and blessed statuette of Het-Heret (Hathor) and I started working on my ritual outline for Her.
During some reading I read this lovely passage from Invoking the Egyptian Gods by Judith Page and Ken Biles p124 :
Hathor represented not just love, but the sensuality of a woman. She was the temptress who gets what she wants from a man; he willingly gives her whatever she asks. This is not evil as the Christians would have us believe; that woman in the act of sacred sexuality. It is not evil and it is not to be feared; it is the natural way of things.
Hathor is the desire felt in the soft heaving of a woman’s firm round breasts. She is the gentle swaying of a woman’s hips as she moves in dance. She is in the big, wide eyes of a woman looking up into the face of her man. She is in the flushed lips of a woman, as they part to accept her lover’s kiss. Hathor can be found in the gentle caress of a woman. She is in the full embrace of a woman as she molds her body to her mate’s, and she is in the moist warmth between a woman’s legs.
It is the sight of Hathor within a woman that makes a man forget all about his own pleasure, and desire only to please his partner to her complete satisfaction, and as many times as possible”
I’ve always struggled with my own womanhood, perhaps it has to do with a great deal of bullying as a kid, being the ugly girl, the fat girl, the tomboy, “one of the boys”. It wasn’t always easy I happened to not be “feminine”, I was never forced to be a “girl” by my parents, I was just allowed to BE. And as such my personality developed, and my interests developed maybe slightly differently than children who are “gendered” from the time they are born by their parents and society.
Unfortunately many of my childhood experiences led to hangups about growing into womanhood. Womanhood is a touchy subject and something I cannot quite get down all in one little blog post, but for the record, I am someone who believes that women can be born with penises, and that “woman” is a social and cultural construct, and therefore there are MANY ways of being a woman, just as there are many ways of being a man. As a child however, my so-called unfeminine physique, my “tomboyishness” and other qualities that were deemed more “boyish” than “girly” led me down a path of denial of the beauty of my own sexuality, and indeed womanhood.
As a teenager after having discovered Wicca, I worked heavily with Aphrodite. This was spoken about briefly in Part One of The Temple of Love. Much, much later… I discovered Het Heret. I only started working with her earlier this year, but it feels like I’ve known Her for a long time.
This is more or less, the type of Conversation I’ve been having with the Jackal for a while now, surprisingly he doesn’t lose his patience with me, I would lose patience with me. So on this day with Het Heret, I had a similar type of conversation. Except with this conversation, some type of break through happened and I surrendered. I surrendered to my feminine self, to my divine womanhood, and saw myself as beautiful, sexy and whole. The ritual was ecstatic, it involved intoxication, menstrual blood and dance. It was uplifting, it brought me into contact with parts of myself that I’d repressed.
Of course shadow work is always quite difficult, memories come back, rage builds up and break*downs* happen, so over the course of the week I’ve been dealing with this, looking to heal bits of myself that are damaged, sorting through my own self-loathing. I’ve screamed, cried, raged,loathed. I’m still in the middle of it all but Het Heret is beside me, Her loving energy connecting me to the experience, to myself, to my womanhood, allowing me to look at my body from a different perspective, of course this is not straight and narrow path, it winds and twists, but at least I’m being guided down a path of some kind, even if it is bringing up stuff I’d rather ignore.