When last have you made your yes, YOUR yes?

Two of our most POWERFUL words,

the ones opening and closing doors,

the ones that has us expanding or constricting,

is:

yes

and

no.

It’s because of the power they have over our experience of life, that those who live in fear, those who feel they have to dominate and oppress others so they won’t have to face their puny egos in the mirror, train us to say YES to them, and NO to ourselves.

Even when saying yes to them, feels like vomit washing around in your mouth.

Even when saying no to yourself, feels like a nail being driven into your very core.

They demand you respect them.

They demand you regurgitate their truth without question.

They demand you live for them not yourself.

They demand you comply by their rules or be expelled.

They command you to be ‘responsible’, taking care of your body not to thrive, but to serve.

They rape you into releasing your personal right to say no to that which does not please you.

And slowly but surely,

you constrict by saying yes to their bullshit,

and no to your truth.

Your voice becomes an instrument of compliance and obedience,

instead of an instrument for creative change.

I clearly recall the suffocation.

For as long as I can remember, nothing made sense to me.

Family rules didn’t make sense to me.

Why did I have to respect those whose behaviour left me feeling ill just because they were older than me?

Why couldn’t I talk about what was happening behind closed doors?

Why couldn’t I talk about the physical punishment if it really hurt them more than me?

Why couldn’t I talk about the hurtful words if those words was truly the voice of love?

Why couldn’t I talk about my crazy father threatening to shoot my mom in front of me on Christmas Eve if this was what marriage looks like?

Money rules didn’t make sense to me.

Why couldn’t I be involved in budget talks?

Why couldn’t I tell my friends how amazing my mom is that she would bake cookies from scratch when there wasn’t any money for store-bought packets?

Why couldn’t we celebrate the fact that we were middle-class?

The church rules didn’t make sense to me.

Why couldn’t everyone pray in a way that feels delightful?

Why couldn’t I talk to God directly?

Why did I have to buy my way into heaven with my ten cents into the collection plate?

Why did we have to be right and everyone else doomed to burn in the fires of hell for all eternity, because they called God by a different name, prayed in a different fashion?

More than anything, how the fuck do we murder in the name of God when she is LOVE?

All the time, told to hang my head in shame for my defiance:

‘Yes father,

Yes mother,

Yes sir,

Yes ma’am,

I’m sorry.

I won’t ask again.

I won’t do that again.

I won’t say anything again.’

Feeling my soul shrivel up into a dried up ball of defeat.

I still see it happening everywhere, and I know people aren’t doing it maliciously.

In all honesty they’re simply too fucking exhausted and lazy to think for themselves.

Desperately holding on to traditions that has never served the individual, because the alternative would mean that they would have to take responsibility for themselves!

Their thoughts.

Their feelings.

Their words.

Their actions.

They would have to take the time to remember who they truly are and what they desire.

Do you even know what you truly desire?

Do you have a burning desire right here, right now?

They would have to grow a pair and strong boundaries and actually have the audacity to say NO to people who don’t respect them, who don’t appreciate them, who don’t love them.

Can you imagine??

They would have to start believing in themselves, and say YES to what they truly want, and then go for it as if their hair is on fire.

Without figuring out the how.

Taking a leap of faith.

Believing that even if they fell flat on their faces, they can get back up again.

They would have to make their yes THEIR yes, and their no THEIR no.

From within.

From soul.

Not from outside authorities.

Not from compliance.

If this thought has you reeling out in a breakout of sweat-induced fear,

if you want to rally against the mere idea of this,

telling me that this selfish perspective will result in social chaos,

I invite you to press pause and ask yourself,

is this thought coming from a space of fear,

or a space of love?

Do you honestly believe that people are good,

or do you think them evil little motherfuckers?

Because if you think the latter, I’m sorry to tell you that oppression will simply cause more of the dark energy to grow.

If on the other hand, like me, you believe in love,

that people are love at their essence,

that humanity is love at its essence,

that the Universe is love,

then you will come to see that radical self-love is the cure to all the shit you see going on around you right now.

Radical self-love is the cure to rape.

Radical self-love is the cure to murder.

Radical self-love is the cure to depression.

Radical self-love is the cure to suicide.

Radical self-love is the cure to anxiety.

Radical self-love is the cure to overwhelm.

Radical self-love is the cure to shame.

Radical self-love is the cure to abuse.

And when you are filled with radical self-love, you can ONLY radiate love.

By saying yes to your soul desires,

and no to their bullshit.

I’m just going to leave you with this to ponder on.

After all,

only death is inevitable.

Thriving is the choice of those brave enough to question and think for themselves.

With unending love and appreciation for you,

Anel