The moment that I didn't need to carry

I reached for the grocery bag at the exact moment he reached past me to hand it to my son.

“Where are y’all from?” he asked in a slow southern drawl.

Before I even answered, I felt it — that subtle internal recoil. My body knew what was coming before my mind could form words.

“New Hampshire,” my son replied as he took the bag from the cashier.

“Down here, women don’t carry bags,” he said, passing another one to one of my other boys.

Immediately, they stepped forward. Shoulders squared. Taking over.

And again, I felt it — that quiet contraction inside. My energy pulled back. My weight shifted to my back foot. I leaned slightly away from the counter as I watched the moment unfold and noticed everything happening within me.

There was a time when I would have bristled.
A time when I would have corrected.
A time when I would have needed to assert.

Instead, I observed.

He caught my eye gently and gave a small wink before continuing to chat with the boys about how long we’d been driving and where we were headed. And something unexpected happened.

I softened.

I smiled back.

It wasn’t lost on me that this was an invitation.

Life is always offering us something. The real question is whether we are available to receive it.

In that simple exchange, I could feel the Universe presenting me with an opportunity to relax more deeply into my divine feminine energy. To allow. To receive. To not lead. To not manage. To not hold.

Everything is available to us — but only if we are willing to shift the frequency from which we are engaging.

I could continue relating to life from the version of divine masculine energy that had shaped so much of my independence — the one that leads, controls, anticipates, and carries. Or I could experiment with something different.

Trust.
Receptivity.
Softening.

The moment itself was subtle.

And yet, there was nothing subtle about what it confronted within me.

It illuminated how much of my life had been lived from control — from competence — from “I’ve got it.” There have been many versions of me who would have brushed past this interaction without ever seeing it as an initiation. Versions who weren’t yet ready to surrender. Not ready to feel the vulnerability of allowing someone else to step forward. Not ready to release the grip.

But this time was different.

This time, I was ready.

I wasn’t going to spiritually bypass the discomfort. I wasn’t going to pretend it didn’t activate something in me. I was available — fully — for what it stirred.

For the softening.
For the unraveling.
For the recalibration.

Over the last six months, I’ve devoted myself to expressing the most authentic version of who I am — peeling back layers, releasing armor, dissolving identities that no longer fit.

This moment at the grocery counter wasn’t random.

It was simply the next layer.

Another doorway.

Another opportunity to embody, not just understand, what it means to live from the fullness of my feminine frequency.

And this time, I stepped through.