So, here is my question…
Is there a part of you/me/us that loves rejection? That craves it? Creates it?
Or is it just the consequence of being born a woman, in this world, at this time?
Women get rejected from things.
We face rejection from all kinds of leadership positions due to systemic biases, stereotypes, and cultural expectations. These barriers are seen across a range of industries: in corporate leadership like C suites or board membership, in politics, STEM, academia, military, law enforcement, tech, media, the Clergy, and on and on and on.
We expect rejection when we venture forth bravely. We put our shields up, grab the biggest sword we can find, and head into battle – heads rolling everywhere. Sometimes, even our own.
But I must especially love rejection because I chose Pu$$y as my pathway for both personal enlightenment and professional success.
This led to a LOT of controversy on both the inner and the outer – not just for me, but for my lil pumpkin, Maggie.
Just ask her what it was like to have an endless stream of women parading through the house, or to grow up with a stripper pole in both the living room and my bedroom. Image may be NSFW.
Clik here to view.
(Well, she actually shut down the one in the living room, but that’s another story. Not that it helped…)
I am super interested in this rejection lust/attraction that we women have, because I see it everywhere.
I see women deliberately choosing men/women/nonbinary partners who will never choose them back. I see us not choosing love when it is freely offered. I see us actually deciding “I can’t” versus “Lezz go!” in the direction of our dreams and desires, as if we’ve already been rejected before even leaving home plate.
Kinky secret about me: There is so much erotic charge for me in being pushed away, versus a big fat continual ‘yes, yes, yes!’
In my lifetime, I have constructed, stacked, and organized the craziest assortment of lovers – all of them destined to blow up – just to keep rejection close at hand. (Do you do that, too?)
Is it a spiritual kink that must be continually fed?
I wonder that a lot as Peter and I deepen. His love for me can overwhelm my system. His deep hot and holy appreciation for me can feel like molasses on top of maple syrup poured over hot fudge sauce. Way too f*cking much.
And yet. All I have ever wanted – my whole little long life – is to be fully loved, fully known, and fully witnessed by a partner. To open my body, my heart, my soul to the divine in human form that wants to adore, know, and connect with every single drop of me. To let someone in. All the way. And be totally f@#ked open to god. By god, in human form. (I can’t wait to tell you how I have opened to that now…maybe next week?)
But before I surrendered to Peter, the closest I was able to get to that kind of love was through the exquisiteness of rejection, or the fear of rejection, or the potential threat of rejection.
Which is why I stayed out of intimate partner relationships for so many years. Because it fed the sweet kink of never quite having what I said I wanted.
Which meant always having what I actually wanted, which was not to be in a partnership, because my deal with That Which is Greater was that ‘Regena is always rejected’ at some core level.
I played that part so perfectly in my life.
When I started the SWA in my living room, and my neighbors saw dozens of women streaming into my house each evening – up the brownstone stoop, covered with rose petals – some of them thought I was running a brothel.
The next level of this rejection was getting consistently thrown out of venues I booked due to ‘nudity’ or ‘inappropriate behavior’. (AKA a bunch of women celebrating their bodies, with themselves and each other.)
So, when I was in the Amazon Rainforest – as I mentioned last week – on the lookout for The Goddess…she showed the F up. (No drugs, no medicine. Just me and She, in the jungle.)
I know, I know, it did not seem like we were getting ‘there’ from our continuation tale, from last week, but, here we go:
This time, She had a new message for me: Girlie, feel that ecstasy in your body? Right now?
(Yes, you. Join me for a quick ride, right now – run your gorgeous fingers slowly down your cheek. Slower than slow.)
That’s me, baby. Me and you. Feel THAT? That’s where we merge. It is a different day, a different age, a different time, right now.
You do not have to hold the sword anymore in the way you have done, precious flower. Let ecstasy be your reality. Then you know I am with you, within you.
Feel me. Touch me. I love being seen by you, celebrated by you. It makes me dizzy with joy. Which fuels you with so much more potency than your sword.
This is the alchemical magic of the feminine. No matter what is happening, let her flood you with radiance as the path to what’s next.
Radiance instead of rage. Surrender versus the sword. Feel versus fight.
See, pleasure is a different pathway than rejection. A different direction than the sword. It is a different pathway than love.
It is a purposeful way to pray.
It’s not hard, and it does not take a long time. But it does require practice.
We have to learn to practice – with our bodies – the experience of surrendering to pleasure (as opposed to continually preparing for rejection).
What is the practice? Choosing, noticing, feeling the abundance of life, love, erotic aliveness, everywhere. The more erotic aliveness your body can hold, the more surrender, the less rejection, and on and on to infinity and beyond.
And if you join me in P*ssy Leadership Mastermind this spring, practice is precisely what you’ll get. (Along with sisterhood, support, and a whole lot of transformative tools.)
Intrigued?
Who’s down to chart this path, together? (To be continued…)
With so much love and pleasure,
Regena
P.S. If you’ve been romanticising rejection, and you’re ready to retire your sword in service to something deeper…add your name to the PLM waitlist right HERE.
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