The Goddess of Love Venus (or Aphrodite) has been a symbol of the feminine and a muse for many centuries inspiring poems, stories, and paintings. She is always radiant and sensual admired by both men and women.
She was born when her father’s genitals were thrown out to sea by one of his sons and from the sea foam (aphros) rose Venus. Because of her great beauty, the other gods and goddesses began to fear that jealousy would spoil the peace among them and eventually lead them to war. To remedy this, she was quickly married off to another god who was not seen as a threat allowing Venus to have many lovers, both gods and mere mortal men. In the end her beauty was more powerful than fear.
For me, Venus can be a heroine for women. Her beauty was feared and had to be controlled, but she found a way of owning it and sharing it under her own terms.
Many modern women suffer from this beauty and fear affliction.
Most of us women are fearful of our own beauty because we are to be modest and are trained to be self-critical and self-deprecating. Give a woman a compliment and many times she will not accept it and instead give a million reasons why this compliment cannot be true.
When a woman owns her beauty, really wholeheartedly owns it, well, she is simply amazing and unstoppable (input a picture of Sophia Loren a real life Venus for many), but we call this woman stuck up or a bitch or we say “she thinks too highly of herself.’
The truth of who women really are: Women are beautiful, divine, sensual, and erotic creatures. Her very creation is a masterpiece. We are beautiful soul women.
A woman’s beauty runs as deep as the sea that birthed Venus. Our beauty is a gift of from the Divine. We come in different shapes, sizes, colors, and even smells because our beauty cannot be fully captured in a cookie-cutter form.
My heart bursts in delight when I see the moment when a woman realizes what a gift she really is – that all the stories her head has ever told her are not true because she sees and feels the divine light and blessing she truly is. She is willing to look past the stories she has heard about herself and her beauty. She is willing to trust herself and find herself comfortable in her own skin no matter its shape, color, creed, or size.
My wish for very woman is that when we look at our faces and bodies, may it be an act of recalling and our awakening our inner Venus. It does not matter that we are not all size 0 and have breasts that never sag. What matters is that when we look in the mirror, there is a recognition of the marvelous beautiful divine goddesses that we really are. When we catch a glimpse of our bodies, let us stop in awe at its true magnificence. Let us love ourselves – every single inch of ourselves and say aloud “I love me because I am a divine manifestation of God’s perfection.” Because the truth is anything else is part of a story we heard of how things should be, of how we should look, of how things should be different (enough shoulding!!!).
Because the truth is that every mark, wrinkle, and dimple is a reflection of the events and experiences that is our life. Our face and our bodies are a manifestation of the masterpiece (our life) that we create. So divine and beautiful soul women, the next time you catch your own reflection, become aware of the negative comment and let it go, and instead say “I love YOU.”
And, while I am at it, ladies, no more mad dog looks towards one another. Instead smile and remind yourself that every woman out there is also a divine manifestation and instead celebrate one another with a smile, or be daring and give another woman a compliment. Venus has been a muse of inspiration for many centuries. How blessed are we beautiful soul women that every time we look in the mirror, we get to meet our muse, our own inspiration… ourselves.
I often recite the poem Phenomenal Woman by Maya Angelou because it is a wonderful reminder for me of what is is to be a woman. Here are a few of my favorite parts:
Men themselves have wondered
What they see in me.
They try so much
But they can’t touch
My inner mystery.
When I try to show them
They say they still can’t see.
It’s in the arch of my back,
The sun of my smile,
The ride of my breasts,
The grace of my style.
I’m a woman
That’s me.Now you understand
Just why my head’s not bowed.
I don’t shout or jump about
Or have to talk real loud.
When you see me passing
It ought to make you proud.
It’s in the click of my heels,
The bend of my hair,
the palm of my hand,
The need of my care,
‘Cause I’m a woman