Dear Sensualist,
I’ve made it official:
I no longer wish to force anything.
Nothing. Nada.
And yet, allowing softness to take the lead in my life has been one of the hardest things I’ve ever done, ironically so.
In theory, softness should be simple. You just let go.
But in practice? It feels like unlearning a lifetime of tension.
Because somewhere along the way, strength became a performance. A survival costume. A polished image we wear so the world won’t ask too many questions.
Sticking to the perfect diet? That’s strength.
Climbing the career ladder, making the money, getting the accolades? Strength.
Holding it all together while your inner world aches? Strength.
But beneath all that hardness, beneath the clenched jaw and the to-do lists and the perfectly curated persona; there’s often another self. A quieter one. A gentler one.
And oh, how I love her.
She walks slower. Her skin glows. Her eyes soften. The tension in her back releases as she melts into her pillows and fully loses herself in the book resting on her chest. She laughs easier. Eats slower. She’s less bloated, less burdened, less busy performing a version of womanhood that’s lost its sweetness.
Does that make her weaker?
I don’t think so.
In fact, I believe this softened self is where our deepest strength lives.
Because she’s not gripping, she’s trusting. She’s not forcing, she’s following.
She is deeply attuned. Turned on. In touch with her intuition, her body, her pleasure, her knowing.
And isn’t that the kind of power we’re all truly craving?
That’s the version I want to live from.
That’s the place this magazine writes from.
So let me ask you:
Who are you when you’re not holding it all together?
How does your body shift?
Your breath?
Your gaze?
What would change if you treated your need for softness as sacred, not shameful?
No need to answer now. Let the questions linger.
I’ll meet you again tomorrow.
With all my love, always,
Sabrina
Read The Latest Article
Sabrina