I Am Not Too Much. I Am Whole.

Like many women, I’ve spent much of my life feeling watched.

Observed. Measured. Interpreted. Judged.

Too much of this. Not enough of that. Too emotional. Too strong. Too big. Too chubby. Too lean. Too sexual. Too muscular. Too talkative. Too opinionated. Too unapologetic. Too sad. Too happy. Too something. Too much.

And for a long time, I thought the answer was to become less. Smaller. Easier to digest.

But something in me refused.

Not loudly. Not rebelliously.

Just… steadily.

Like the sun.

At different points, I tried shrinking myself in every way I knew how.

I tried being smaller in a smaller body. I tried being smaller in a larger body. I tried being more pleasing. More desirable. More agreeable. Less opinionated. Less bold. Less noisy. Quieter, even. LOL (And trust me, the quieter part was the hardest of them all.)

None of it worked.

Because the problem was never my size, my shape, or my softness. The problem was the belief that I had to abandon parts of myself to belong. To succeed. To be a better version of myself as a woman, wife, mother, women's advocate, even as a businesswoman.

It just didn't work. So I had to stop. Pause long enough to remember who I really am. 

I discovered I didn't need to rise to prove anything. I rose because it’s who I am.

I rose because I was being called every day to rise back into my life.

To Stand Up.

To Reclaim.

To Remember Who I Really Am.

This season of my life feels softer—and stronger—than any that came before it. I’m no longer negotiating with myself for acceptance. I’m finding my set point now. And it feels good. It feels whole. Holy. 

Simply…Woman. I’m no longer interested in contorting myself to fit into spaces that were never designed to hold women in their fullness. I’m interested in beauty. In truth. In women standing comfortably inside their own skin.

I see it everywhere now. In the lines around our eyes. In the stories etched into our bodies. In the way women carry entire worlds quietly, competently, lovingly.

Society can be hard on women—especially women who are changing. Especially women who are choosing again. Especially women who dare to want more peace, more pleasure, more alignment, more truth.

That’s why women have always gathered.

Not to compete. Not to compare. But to remember.

To remind each other who we are when the noise gets loud. To sit shoulder to shoulder and say, You’re not too much. You’re just awake.

Simply…Woman has never been about becoming someone new.

It’s about being all things.

Mother Energy. Daughter Energy. Woman Energy.

And still—(in my case)

Mother. Daughter. Grandmother. Woman.

Whole and complete. Dark and light. Both held with reverence. It’s about coming home.

Home to your body. Home to your intuition. Home to the part of you that knows you were never meant to dim your light to make others comfortable.

Years ago, I wrote something that still feels true in my bones:

Heal Thy Self = Healthy Self.

We are all things. The darkest night and the brightest sunrise. The fear we run from and the love we trust.

Our duality is not a flaw—it is the contrast that allows us to become whole.

There is no shame in being human. No shame in being imperfect. No shame in telling the truth.

It takes courage to grow up and become the fully embodied Self. It takes courage to be an Adult in this world. It takes courage to be all of you.

This is the Emotional Edge.

This is Woman Energy. For women. By women. Experienced by women. Taught by women who have lived, lost, loved, and risen. Owned by women who trust themselves.

And if you feel the pull toward sisterhood right now—toward beauty, truth, and connection—it’s not random.

It’s ancient. It’s cellular. It’s your nature remembering itself.

Have a beautiful day. May your light press gently into the world— exactly as you are.

Love,
Crystal