I’m a day late with my Sunday reflection. And if I’m honest, I almost didn’t write it at all.

We celebrated my eldest daughter, Madelaine, turning 31 on February 11th. The house was full — kids, partners, baby, pets. Laughter in the kitchen. The baby bringing sooooo much love and happiness to our family. Visits are so much fun these days. Life happening in real time.

And Valentine’s Day followed a few days later. My husband and I went out for a lovely afternoon meal and yes, I got roses and all the love he can give.

Normally, I post on social media.
I tell the world how much I love my children on their birthdays.
I say something meaningful about my marriage.
I mark the moment publicly.

But this year… I didn’t.

Not because I forgot.
Not because I don’t love them.

But because something in me refused to perform.

And if I’m really honest… it’s because I see how hard it is for women sometimes. I see what happens when we scroll through glossy highlight reels of everyone else’s perfect life.

The surprise bouquets.
The elaborate dinners.
The captions about being endlessly adored.

And I know how easy it is — even for strong, accomplished women — to quietly compare.
To wonder.
To measure.
To feel a subtle ache.

I find myself doing it too, and I tell myself, “If this is happening to me — an empowerment coach and women’s advocate — it must be happening to other women too.”

So this year, I just didn’t.

Valentine’s Day carries pressure.

Am I wanted?
Am I chosen?
Am I adored?
Is this enough?

Even women in strong relationships feel it.
Even women who look confident and radiant feel it.
Even women who teach Emotional Age feel it.

Even the woman who coined “Emotional Age” and “Woman Energy” feels it.

So I decided I never want to share from a place of proving. I never want to post just to show that my life is beautiful. I never want to contribute to the pressure if it’s not authentic and real for me in the moment.

This year, love felt layered.

It felt beautiful and complicated.
It felt strong and tender.
It stirred older feelings and present gratitude at the same time.

And to be totally honest, February has always been hard for me. It was the month I was raped as a 14-year-old girl. The shame. The sorrow. The loss of innocence. The lack of support. The pain that never ever leaves you. 

And witnessing what continues to happen to women around the globe — from Iran to Afghanistan to the United States of America — has awakened old anger and long-standing questions about justice.

So this year — this February — with all that is happening to women in the world, I couldn’t wrap my life and images in a perfect bow.

Here’s the truth: No woman lives in Woman Energy all the time.

Sometimes, on a day like Valentine’s, your Daughter Energy can whisper:

I want to feel special.
I want to feel chosen.

And just as quickly, Mother Energy can rise:

I don’t need anything.
I’m fine.
I do the loving.
Besides, Valentine’s Day is just another day of the year.

And underneath both can live that old narrative many of us carry:

If I overgive, I will be safe.
If I prove myself, I will be loved.

That’s not failure. That’s humanity.

What felt different this year is that I didn’t override it.

I didn’t rush to compensate.
I didn’t manufacture a highlight reel.
I didn’t perform a version of love that felt polished for public consumption.

I allowed it to be complex.

And maybe that’s maturity. Maybe it’s being 55 and seeing love differently with each decade of my life.

Not pretending the holiday was magical when it wasn’t.
Not collapsing into sadness either (although I have become quite the crier these days).
But allowing love and tenderness and memory and growth to coexist.

Because holidays don’t just celebrate what is. They stir what has been.

So yes — I’m a day late.

But I’m right on time with honesty.

If this month has felt layered for you too… you’re not alone.

Love doesn’t always look like the IG reel or perfect pictures.

Sometimes it looks like awareness.
Sometimes it looks like restraint.
Sometimes it looks like refusing to perform.

And sometimes it looks like a woman who sees her parts —
and chooses compassion over comparison.

That’s Woman Energy.

Love,
Crystal

P.S. Ten years ago, Oprah.com shared my Emotional Age Quiz — and women around the world began discovering which part of them was truly leading their lives. I’ve just updated the quiz for 2026. If this reflection resonated, I invite you to take the updated version on my site and see which emotional age is showing up for you right now. Take the Emotional Age Quiz here.