I grew up a Vicar’s daughter. I was a confident and curious child always asking questions. As a cocky punk teenager I was overconfident and preferred the company of boys to soppy girls. 

I wasn’t a girly girl. Never had been. Nothing about me was girly or soft. I embraced my masculine side and relished in my boy traits, especially swearing, wearing my Dr Marten boots and spitting.

Even as a pregnant teenager you just wouldn’t catch me in a dress or anything girly. Once a Mum I softened, following the latest fashions and making myself look very feminine. Although I could still hold my own… that is until I fell for a violent narcissist. 

Slowly but surely my confidence dwindled along with my self esteem. I didn’t feel in control or confident and definitely not empowered. All I wanted was a happy family of my own but what I had ended up with was a mess!

I remember at the age of 19 being asked what am I feeling. I couldn’t answer. I didn’t feel anything and I didn’t really understand the question. I had nothing.

As a young Mum of two daughters I felt stuck, trapped and extremely unhappy. But I had no idea how to communicate these feelings or what I could do about it. I was under someone else’s control and power. That is how it felt.

It took a few more years and a near death experience to gather some courage from the bottom of my soul to flee the desperate and violent situation that was mine and my daughters life and escape to freedom.

One breakdown later and I emerged fully in control to successfully pull my family of 3 out of the brink and into something that resembled a safe home. I became Mum and Dad. I was the sole financial provider. I was THE parent. I was responsible for us all.

I graduated University with a 2:1 Law Degree with Honours. My masculine side had taken hold and was running with the ball. Before I knew it, I was racing up my career ladder with only the very top in sight. I trampled on many colleagues whilst clambering up that ladder. I detached from my emotions and aimed for the top.

By now I had become one of the boys. I dressed in dark pinstripe trouser suits with flat boyish shoes. My hair was dark and short, I wore dark angular glasses and didn’t do make up. I felt tough and in control. All meetings were a battle. A game of win or lose.

I even had a matey relationship with my then husband. Enjoying pints in the pub, listening to rock bands and hikes in the countryside.

There wasn’t anything soft about me. I had become a hard, tough woman without any compassion for self or others. And I loved it.

That was until I was fired from my dream job. I had reached the lofty pinnacle of the top of my career ladder and was now being pushed off into oblivion, kicking and screaming.

Oh what shame. What embarrassment. What tragedy.

I couldn’t understand what was happening. I was the one that did the sacking. No one had ever sacked me before. The pain was immense. My pride was broken, not just wounded, it was ripped in half.

Little did I know that being sacked from my dream job would be one of the best things that would ever happen to me. Within a few days I had also ended my marriage and began to feel the happiest I had in a very long time.

It was like a huge invisible weight had been lifted from my back. A weight that I had been struggling with but not wanting to admit. 

The universe had stepped in, forcing me to take steps. In retrospect the signs had been there but living in my masculine side of force and push, I had chosen to ignore the signs and ploughed on regardless. 

Fortunately I had enough savings to cushion me for six months off work to reevaluate my life. My GP offered me anti- depressants but I was far from depressed. This was the clearest I had felt in years. I was free and full of life.

Within a short time I met my now husband. I wasn’t looking for a serious relationship. It just happened. As I opened my heart to myself and my new man I began to unlock my femininity that had been hiding deep, deep down in the bowels of my inner self, covered with grime and layers of rubbish.

I didn’t plan it. It just happened naturally. No forcing or pushing. Just space to be and gentle allowing to take time to open and flourish, like a flower with water and sun.

The more I rested and became present the better I felt. I grew my hair and stopped dying it dark. I bought more feminine, lighter coloured clothes, even skirts and heels. I retrained as a Life Coach, started reading for pleasure and made time for me.

I trusted more and more in the universe guiding me to synchronicities, people I needed to meet on my path to me. I developed a deep connection with nature and what felt like a rebirth of love. Love for my partner, my family, my friends, my life and above all love for me. 

By allowing myself time and space to dive into me I discovered my beautiful feminine self and all the feminine skills and abilities she lovingly bestows upon me.

But I haven’t forgotten my masculine self. That is very much still there but now it is more controlled. I feel very balanced with my masculine and feminine sides. My Yin and Yang that together form a whole and complete me. 

For me it’s not about being masculine or feminine. Life is about being a balance of both, having the skills and tools from both and knowing when to use them appropriately and effectively.

After all you wouldn’t use a needle to hammer a nail in the wall and vice versa, you wouldn’t use a hammer to sew a hole in your favourite top.

Much love and happiness,

Belinda. xx