Virgin Sacrifice

Dear ancient virgins,

What if everything you’ve been taught about being a woman was designed to keep you small?

To keep you from your most powerful expression?

It’s time to remember who the fuck you are.

Wild. Untamed. Badass. Virgin.

Yeah, the word "virgin" doesn't usually run with the “wild,” “untamed,” and “badass” crowd. But I like the word virgin. I feel a sense of mischievous delight just saying it.

Virgin.

As in a woman who is owned by no one and is her own sovereign being.

Virgin — an autonomous and self-possessed woman.

Virgin — a woman who isn’t defined by a relationship to a man.

Virgin — a whole and complete person unto herself.

Virgin — a person who is interdependent in relationships rather than co-dependent.

I’m not a “virgin” in the modern sense. (By the way, there is no medical definition for “virgin” - it’s a social construction used primarily to control women’s bodies and sexual behavior.)

Some have even called me a slut or a whore — as if that’s a bad thing.

Once, I even sported a Scarlet Letter “A” hoodie to remind myself that I don’t give a shit about what other people think of my sexual behavior.

It’s MY sexual behavior, not theirs.

Fuck them and their judgments.

Yet I feel more and more virgin with each passing day.

Even though no one ever “owned” me, it sure felt like it sometimes.

Or, better said, I signed over ownership of myself.

My body. My energy.

To them.

Parents. Boyfriends. Husbands. Lovers. Employers. Friends.

For fear of punishment, banishment, rejection, abandonment, abuse.

Fear of retaliation.

Even fear of death.

After I learned that I’d be punished if I spoke up for myself, I stopped.

I became the quintessential doormat.

I let anyone and everyone walk all over me.

I buried my virginity.

I suppressed my fire.

I disowned my power.

My body became a host for foreign energies of all sorts.

And I know I’m not alone.

So many of us were taught to silence our truth, to dim our magic, to feel shameful about our bodies and sexuality, to trade our sovereignty to fit in.

Virginity isn’t something we “lose,” it’s something we’re taught to sacrifice.

Society conditions us to see ourselves as property. Not too long ago, most women were considered property — and many of us still carry that programming in our bones.

So, when did I sacrifice my virginity?

With a previous partner. When I gave up my autonomy, my power, my sovereignty.

When did you sacrifice yours?

Over the past decade, I’ve been reclaiming it — piece by piece. Reclaiming my body. My essence. My divinity. My virginity.

And with each reclamation, I feel more powerful. More whole.

It’s challenging. Uncomfortable. Rewarding. Underworldly. Messy. Beautiful. Ugly. Scary. Exhilarating. Angering. Peaceful. Disappointing. Surprising. Frustrating. Satisfying. Supernatural. Even psychedelic.

I’ve trudged through the dark recesses of my psyche to perform the most spectacular burlesque performance of my soul — stripping away of conditioning to unearth the buried treasure of my ancient virginity.

To resurrect my vibrant essence and reclaim my sensual body. My boundaries.

To tend to my inner fire like a hearth witch — burning away the foreign energies that no longer serve me.

We’ve sacrificed our virginity — our bodies — to patriarchy for thousands of years.

It’s time to take our power back.

I’m calling for a Virgin Sacrifice.

No, not that kind of virgin sacrifice…

A sacrifice to release conditioning.

To break patriarchy’s spell.

To give death to old beliefs, thoughts, behaviors, ancestral patterns, personal patterns.

To reclaim our sovereignty. Sensuality. Sexuality. Autonomy. Wild Nature. Virginity.

Together.

In an in-person cauldron of transformation — where I’ll guide you through rituals of death, alchemy, and rebirth.

To resurrect your sovereignty.

In community with each other.

Are you Down to Sacrifice?

I sure the fuck am.

This isn’t about becoming someone new — it’s about remembering who you’ve always been.

Whole. Sovereign. Feral. Free.

The age of obedience is over.

The era of the sovereign women — the sovereign witch — has begun.

The flame is already inside you.

All that’s left is to tend it — like a hearth witch tending to the sacred fire within the home of her own body.

If something inside you whispers “yes,” keep reading.

Below, I’ll share more about what Virgin Sacrifice is — and what unfolds within its seven nights.