Woman

All posts tagged Woman

“Love Thy Enemy” they say. Eff You Mutant.

Published January 1, 2026 by tindertender

How about “loving them” from a very, very, great distance. Better yet, how about cutting ALL energetic cords, complete separation.

“Trust and love each other” some say. These are those who weren’t forced to listen to the cries of tortured children every moment of every day for decades, pleading that someone save them.

People criticize those who try to keep animals from the slaughter, not understanding “the people we aren’t supposed to talk about” have been putting the bodies of their sacrifices, these tortured children, into the meat grinder and selling them to civilians as hotdogs and other ground meats.

These same “unintentional” cannibals, get mad at those of us trying to keep their sorry azzes out of the meat grinder. Perhaps the Mother Father Divine should just let them go?

Go forth child, into the vipers den. Go forth child and “be friends” with the vampire, feeding on your soul.

Long ago I tried to save the souls of people speaking on this very topic, and how these nasty jacks would prostitute everyone … and they have. They’ve been relentlessly feeding on the people, in many ways.

I no longer care to save anyone’s soul. I suffered centuries, being recycled, sacrificed, consumed. My energy and gifts were used to hurt people by those wearing a mask, a catfishing copycat … many of them … framing me as terrorist, as prostitute.

I’m no longer willing to give up my life for those who convict me of being mean. I release you. I give you over to those vampires you insist need to be trusted. I allow you freedom to go … and be their supply.

Everyone needs to learn their lessons.
I’ve learned mine, by narrowly escaping their feeding line, after being drained, harvested, soul essence sucked out of me by an invisible, energetic straw.

You can be the new fodder if you wish.
God has it all arranged.
He knows who chose who.

—————————-

The interdimensional guide of the curator (seller of human soul value, and vital, energetic source, is talking about a “peace treaty”.

These sellers of human vital force, soul value, and happiness have NEVER honored a peace treaty. They use such things as permission to stay in the energy while they strategize a way to come back harder, with greater destruction.

They have exterminated 20 out of the 21 species of human. They have been terraforming the planet and chemically altering humans to become trans … something other than a natural human. (atrazine in water supply, bpa -synthetic estrogen – in all canned good). They intend for humans as God created them to cease to be.

They’ve been torturing children, eating them, some while alive, and there is no peace in them. You cannot make pacts with the devil, they worship death and are searching for a success story, and their success story means the failure of Gods Family … Humanity.

These near perfect copycat mutations have no love in them, although they can “act like it” nearly perfectly.

They offer no structural value. They do not create, they destroy.

They are invasive “bark beatles” in the Forests of Eden, feeding on the “trees” of planetary stabilizers … those strong enough to root deeply in shadow, to grow mighty in light, and hold temperance within themselves, and for their communities.

There’s a reason the Most High rewards such beings, and we’ve got a bunch of 70% percenters out there (meaning they’ve only passed 70% of their lessons) who target those who have passed 100% of their lessons … they like to redrum the successes and consume their soul value, essential energy, all covenants and wealth, while “pretending” they are a success.

——————————————

Women want to love the masculine, still, and it makes my heart happy, at the same time, quite fierce. (Let the brutalizer, parasitical, vampire be exterminated).

God said the mean mutants pretending to be men would get what they deserve. I in no way shape or form will object, give mercy, or defend them.

I pray the soft hearted woman learn to love herself enough to recognize those she feels drawn to “trust” are not the ones “made in the image of God”, they are “bark Beatles” in the Garden of Eden, and they’ve been feeding on the Womb of Power, the Tree of Life, and the innocent life coming from it, for far too long.

Gratefully, True Divine Masculine heard our prayers and are here now wiping the floor with their faces.

The Mothers Bridge was mended. The Father knows the truth now. The mutants who have defiled the Mothers, and the reputation of the Divine Fathers, by using the man suit made in the image of, the phallus, the creators tool to bring forth life, to hurt, harm, terrorize, and unalive weaker, softer beings, and their weeping hearts.

Eff you mutant.

Committed to an Asylum by husband who wanted a younger wife

Published December 28, 2025 by tindertender

Ada Morrison was committed to Connecticut asylum in 1893, age thirty, by husband who wanted younger wife. Commitment reason: “excessive reading and intellectual pretensions unsuitable for woman.” Ada had taught school before marriage, read constantly, discussed politics. Husband said this proved mental instability. Two doctors examined her for ten minutes, agreed intelligent woman was clearly insane. Ada was locked in asylum for four years, labeled insane for being educated. She escaped eight times. Caught seven times. Succeeded once. Took four years of attempts—climbing windows, picking locks, bribing guards, hiding in laundry carts. Ada’s intelligence that got her committed was same intelligence that freed her.

This tintype from 1897 shows Ada after final successful escape, age thirty-four, displaying scars from previous attempts—broken arm from second-floor fall, burn marks from climbing hot steam pipes, lash marks from punishment after failed escapes. She holds commitment papers declaring her “mentally deficient with delusions of intellectual capability.” Ada had graduated college. Taught school for six years. Read Latin and Greek. Asylum declared this insanity. Her husband declared it embarrassing. Her intelligence declared it crime. Ada spent four years proving she was sane enough to escape place she was imprisoned for being smart.

Ada reached New York after escape, changed name to Sarah Bennett, worked as clerk hiding education level to avoid suspicion. Never contacted family—they’d supported commitment. Never remarried—couldn’t trust man with legal power over her freedom. Lived quietly for thirty-eight years, died in 1935, age seventy-two, having spent thirty-eight years hiding intelligence that had nearly destroyed her. Ada had been imprisoned for reading. Spent rest of life pretending she barely could. That was survival in world that called educated women insane.

After her death, landlady found Ada’s room filled with books—hundreds of volumes hidden behind false wall. Ada had kept reading despite risk, kept learning despite having been punished for it, kept thinking despite it being dangerous for woman in her era. Also found: diary documenting eight escape attempts with detailed notes about asylum security, guard rotations, lock mechanisms. Ada had been brilliant enough to escape asylum that imprisoned brilliant women.

Her commitment papers are now in women’s history museum: “Ada Morrison was committed for reading too much. Escaped asylum eight times before succeeding. Spent 38 years hiding intelligence that prison couldn’t contain. She was insane for being smart. World was insane for calling that illness.”

Letting Go of the Ache for Understanding

Published December 23, 2025 by tindertender

There comes a moment in life when you realize that some hearts will never truly hear you—no matter how clearly you speak, no matter how vulnerably you open your soul. It’s a tender, bruising truth: people can stand right in front of you and still miss the essence of what you’re trying to share. Their ears catch the words, but their fears, wounds, or defenses twist them into something unrecognizable. And in that distortion, you feel the sting of being unseen.

For so long, I carried that sting like a heavy stone in my chest. I’d replay conversations, searching for the perfect phrase I might have missed—the one that could finally bridge the gap. I’d explain myself again and again, softer this time, louder the next, hoping that persistence would crack open their understanding. But each attempt only left me more exhausted, more diminished, as if my truth had to be shrunk or reshaped to fit into their narrow view.

Then, slowly, the deeper pain revealed itself: not just the misunderstanding, but the quiet desperation beneath it—the longing to be fully known, to have my experiences validated by the very people who couldn’t (or wouldn’t) see them. Why did I keep pouring my light into vessels that were already sealed shut? Why did I let their limitations dim my own?

The turning point was a gentle surrender. I stopped trying to force the connection. I stopped believing that my worth depended on their comprehension. It hurt at first—this release—like pulling away from a warmth that was never truly there. Tears came, not from anger, but from grieving the illusion that I could make someone understand if I just tried harder.

In letting go, something profound unfolded. I began to feel the weight lift. My energy, once scattered in endless justifications, returned to me. I stood taller in my own knowing, no longer pleading for permission to exist as I am. There is a fierce, quiet strength in this: honoring your truth without demanding that others mirror it back.

You don’t owe anyone your exhaustion. You don’t need to teach emotional depth to those who aren’t ready to learn it. Your story, your feelings, your perspective—they are valid in their fullness, even if they echo unanswered in someone else’s silence.

True understanding can’t be wrested or begged for; it arrives on its own, softly, when hearts are open. And those who are meant to see you will. They will meet you in the depth without you having to pull them there.

So breathe out the need to be heard by everyone. Release the ache of proving yourself. Hold your truth close, like a sacred flame, and let it illuminate your path instead of burning you out trying to light someone else’s darkness.

In this letting go, you reclaim your peace. You rediscover the beauty of being whole unto yourself. And you walk forward lighter, deeper, freer—knowing that your light shines not for approval, but because it is yours to carry.

https://www.facebook.com/share/1Dt5NC1aBG/?mibextid=wwXIfr

🔥 WE ARE WARRIOR GODDESSES 🔥

Published December 23, 2025 by tindertender

We weren’t born to hide. We are born of fire, earth and ancestral memory.

Inside every woman lives a warrior goddess:
-she who falls and gets up,
-she who dances on the embers without fear,
-she who turns pain into power and wound into wisdom.

We are holy fire.
We are ritual in motion.
We are ancient force awakening in this time.

✨ Remember who you are today.
✨ Honor your body, your history, and your lineage.
✨ Walk with your head held high: your energy is invincible.

🔥 We are goddesses. We are warriors. We are light incarnate. 🔥

https://www.facebook.com/share/1C4ukvu4cU/?mibextid=wwXIfr

Dear Women

Published December 21, 2025 by tindertender

Dear Women, have you ever realized how powerful your thoughts are for the man in your life?

Saka Ana Lorenza, a Kogi Saka and spiritual leader, speaks about the quiet but immense importance of women in the lives of their men. She explains that it is not only what women do or say that shapes a man’s path, but also what they think about him in the privacy of their own mind.

When a woman holds thoughts of trust, respect and blessing for her partner, this creates a field of support around him. Even when she is not physically present, he can walk with more strength, clarity and courage. Her inner agreement becomes a kind of spiritual protection that helps him move through obstacles and stay connected to his purpose.

When her thoughts are filled with constant criticism, disappointment or contempt, even if she never speaks them aloud, this too has an effect. The relationship may begin to feel heavy. Conflicts appear without a clear reason. Success may be blocked in subtle ways.

According to Saka Ana Lorenza, many women do not realize how central their inner stance is for the wellbeing of the man and for the harmony of the family.

This is not about blame. It is an invitation to remember the sacred influence that women carry. Their love and their clarity are not small. They are forces that can either nourish or weaken the life that grows around them.

The Kogi see relationship as a spiritual responsibility that both partners share. And the thoughts of the woman are one of its deepest foundations.

May your thoughts become a blessing for you and for those you love.

Medusa: The Woman They Couldn’t Break

Published December 12, 2025 by tindertender

Over and over and over again they proclaim themselves conquerors over Woman.

⚕️MEDUSA: The Woman They Couldn’t Break

They never tell you the real story of Medusa. They just show you the monster: snakes for hair, eyes that turn men to stone.

But they don’t tell you why she became that way.
They don’t want you to see yourself in her.

Medusa was once a beautiful, soft priestess. She served in Athena’s temple. She was pure, untouched, devoted to spirit.

Until one day, Poseidon, one of the gods, decided her body wasn’t hers. He took what he wanted. Violated her. Broke her. Stole her innocence.

That day, sweet Medusa realized her softness was a curse, her beauty a pawn for predatory males.

And the temple, the gods, the people… punished her. Accused her of seducing him. She was cursed. Not him.

From that moment on, she was cast out. Banished, demonized, transformed into something “ugly”. Not because she became evil,
but because she was no longer willing to play nice.

They called her dangerous because she wouldn’t let another man come close. Because she could now freeze them with a stare. Not out of vengeance, but as protection.

Because when you’ve been hunted enough times, your softness becomes a fortress.

Medusa became what the world forced her to be: not a monster, but a mirror.

She reveals the shadow in men. She exposes what they carry inside.

Those who approach her with fear or domination turn to stone.

Those who come in peace… simply turn away, unready to face themselves.

She is the face of the woman who has had enough.
Enough betrayal.
Enough abandonment.
Enough “be gentle, be kind, be forgiving” while being ripped apart.

She reminds us that when women are left to defend themselves, they become fire.
They become storm.
They become legend.

If you’ve been told you’re “too aggressive,” “too angry,” “too guarded”, maybe you’re just protecting the girl no one else protected.

Maybe it’s them, not you.

Medusa is not a villain. She is a survivor.
A symbol of feminine rage alchemized into power.
She is every woman who had to become her own shield.

In the age of the feminine rising, Medusa returns.
Not to punish but to warn.
To teach women that it’s okay to say never again.
To guard your sacred body.
To let your fury be holy.
To wear your scars like armor.

Her Energy Shapes the Home: A Woman’s Aura as Medicine

Published December 10, 2025 by tindertender

A woman’s aura is one of the most powerful forces within a home. It carries her emotions, her thoughts, her intentions, and her spiritual vibration. Long before she speaks, her energy is already communicating. A home can feel warm, tense, alive, stagnant, peaceful, or chaotic—and often, the root of that vibration is the state of the woman’s inner world.

This is why the feminine path calls for deep emotional hygiene. Just as she cleans her physical home, she must cleanse her internal one. Breathwork releases anxiety from her chest. Journaling clears mental clutter. Movement releases stagnant energy from her hips and womb. Herbal baths dissolve emotional residue from her aura. When a woman purifies her energy, her entire home begins to shift.

Children feel it first—they relax, open up, feel safer. Partners feel it next—the tension dissolves, communication softens, connection deepens. Even visitors feel it—they enter the space and say, “It feels peaceful in here.” This is the power of a woman in alignment.

A woman does not need to raise her voice or demand control to influence her household. Her power is subtle, but it is magnetic. Her calm steadies the home. Her joy lifts it. Her sorrow dims it. Her healing transforms it. This is not pressure—it is divine authority.

When a woman honors her energy, she teaches everyone around her to honor theirs. She models emotional intelligence, spiritual awareness, and intentional living. She becomes the emotional thermostat, not the emotional sponge. She leads with softness, not with exhaustion. She heals with presence, not perfection.

A woman in her feminine power is the medicine of her household. Her aura becomes the blessing that fills every room, every conversation, and every heart that shares the space with her.

Tried to Destroy the Dreamer

Published November 30, 2025 by tindertender

… Destroyed their dream.

When they tried to silence the visionary, the actualization of dreams faded, and what remained was a bunch of brutes with angry, unsatisfied energy trying to “force” the visionary to give them a dream. Gorillas. Lost their dream, for trying to destroy the visionary.

https://www.instagram.com/reel/DQPCmTKDAaT/?igsh=MTN4cXM1ajJnZ2Zzbg==

Lateral Violence ~ Colonizer Behavior

Published November 28, 2025 by tindertender

You know what sucks?
Lateral violence.

Not from strangers who know nothing about me…
but from our own people.
The comments, the digs, the policing, the “you’re not doing it right,” the “you don’t look Lakota enough,” the “who taught you.”
The jealousy.
The bitterness.
The tearing down.

And it’s wild, because that behavior?
That’s colonizer behavior.
It’s exactly what they wanted us to do to each other.
Break each other’s spirits.
Doubt each other’s teachings.
Destroy each other’s confidence.
Attack each other’s identity.
Make sure we never trust, never uplift, never celebrate one another.

Our ancestors didn’t survive genocide, boarding schools, forced removals, starvation, outlawed ceremonies, and relentless erasure…
so that we could turn around and harm each other the same way.

I’m out here teaching plant knowledge, educating, sharing culture, raising my kids, running a community-centered business, helping people heal, and trying to leave the world better than I found it.

And the hate I get for simply existing as who I was born to be is unreal.

But here’s what I know and what my elders taught me:
When people attack your identity, your family, your authenticity, your appearance—
they’re speaking from their own wounds.
Their own scarcity.
Their own disconnection.

I refuse to carry that.
I refuse to swallow their hurt like it’s mine.
I refuse to dim my voice to make someone more comfortable in their misery.

I was taught to stand strong, to stand in truth, to keep going even when others want to drag me down.

So to all that lateral violence aimed at me lately?
All that weird, ugly energy trying to knock me off my path?

Nah.
I’m not shrinking.
I’m not stopping.
I’m not breaking.

I’ll keep teaching.
Keep creating.
Keep building.
Keep uplifting our people.
Keep doing the work.

Because that’s what a good relative does.
And I’m not carrying colonizer behavior into the next generation.

My Life is NOT Your Script. I’m No Actress.

Published November 13, 2025 by tindertender

“When someone predicts what the future will be and you give your attention to that, you are lending your creative power to that outcome. The future is not set in stone. We are creating it right now. Especially ignore those who speak vile words of brokenness or unworthiness or weakness over your life.”

It annoys me to no end how masculines unseen, AND their feminine co-conspirators, demand that someone is no one unless their life matches some weird prophecy some random dude dreamt of in history long ago. My life is not a script. My life does not require their approval in order to BE. My life does not need to conform to their script or ideology. It seems to me they do not worship, and are not a part of, the same Living System the Mother Father Divine Most High have gifted the living, here. No. I will not shift my existence so you can “tolerate” it, actor, actress, script writers. You do not get to write my next “lifetime story” !!!!! In fact, I believe it is the Highest here now. Rewriting yours. It’s the end of your relationship with batteries. It’s the end of you trapping, and feeding upon, Gods family.