Revitalize Unbound

12/12/2025

12/12/2025

“Women get more beautiful as they grow older. Not less.
Female youth is only prized in modern culture because it doesn’t represent as much of a threat spiritually to anyone who is frightened of divine feminine power.

As women grow and mature, they call in stronger forces of sacred feminine wisdom. They vibrate with the creative power of their stories.

They are more of a force to be reckoned with.
They see more, know more, feel more. They put up with a lot less bu****it.

When women are trained into thinking there is something fundamentally wrong with getting older, and are coerced into spending money, energy and power investing in ‘slowing the signs of ageing’, an enormous vault of divine love is lost.

Just think what would happen if all the women in the world started loving themselves even more with every year that passed.

Perhaps a total revolution would occur.”

~ Sophie Bashford
Sophie Bashford

Art: Andrea Redmond
Cailleach Moon Cottage

12/09/2025

Hush now.
The wounds run deep,
but the bees
are full of knowing.

They know the hive
of your heart,
each crooked curled chamber
each hopefully hidden curve,
each darkened holding cell.

They have come
with wings
and song
and pollen.

They have come to
harvest each mistake
each broken vessel
to touch the jagged edges
of betrayal
and lost chances,
to collect your failures
one by one,
making honey
from the bitter
making music in the void
making wings where there were wounds.

Hush now. Sleep well.
The night is alive
with forgiveness
and your heart
is a hive
made for honey
made for love.

~ Angi Sullins

Art by Janie Olsen

12/05/2025

don’t call me resilient
like it’s a crown
i wanted to wear

don’t paint me
in gold resurrection
and say “look how she rises"
as if I’m a phoenix
by choice
not necessity

you praise my strength
like it grew wild and free
from power
not grief

but darling—
my resilience
was not a poem
it was a scream

it was duct tape
and deadlines
and trembling hands
on the wheel
and nights crying
on cold linoleum
while the world insisted
i was tough
and had it all together

it was smiling in rooms
where i was bleeding
it was laughing
so no one would ask
why my eyes looked like
they remembered the war

so no
resilience isn’t a compliment
it’s a scar
you named beautiful
because you didn’t want to look
at the wound

it’s the armor
you admired
so you wouldn’t have to ask
why i needed it

you say
“you’re so strong”
i hear
“you can take more”
but what if i don’t want to?

what if
my vulnerability
is more essential
than my ability to
take a hit?

what if feeling my feelings
all the way down
is fierce reclamation
of my authentic self?
what if i want
a life that bares
the naked inconvenient truth
in my teeth
not just the sword
in my smile?

what if i am
just as strong
in my grief
and tender overwhelm
as i am when i’m carrying on
or as you like to say—
walking it off?

what if i’m tired of compliments
that support hiding
the fractures and bruises
so you can be comfortable?

i refuse to be
a crime scene coverup
i refuse to be complicit
in falsifying my truth
so i can win your esteem
like there’s a trophy
for suffering
and a reward for silence

no

i’d rather hear
how brave i am
to be real in a world
that benefits from fakery

how courageous
i am to feel my fear
and still show up fully
shaking and imperfect

that i am a badass
for wearing reckless joy
bigger than my damage

now that, dear patriarchy,
is a compliment

~ Angi Sullins

Art by Tamara Adams Art

12/03/2025

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