Becoming the Natural Woman: The Ultimate Rebellion in a Performative World

Not long ago, women were expected to fulfill rigid standards of being a “good” woman: dutiful wife, devoted mother, obedient daughter. In a world where societal norms and others’ opinions defined a woman’s worth, conforming felt like the most natural thing. After all, society survives through sameness, through people fitting into roles.

Today, we’re lucky to live in different times. We can choose how we dress, who we love, how we earn, and how we live. Life has opened up spaces that used to be off-limits to women. The once “normed” woman has become the modern woman, one who, paradoxically, is now expected to handle even more, aided by technology and pressure alike.

Yes, we have choices now. But does that mean life has actually become easier? I asked myself this often while still living what I now call a “male lifestyle.” What did emancipation really give us if we just moved from one box: home and children, into another: career and constant striving? Both still ask us to adjust, to perform, to play by rules we didn’t write.

I was around 32 when I reached a big career milestone. I got the promotion I had worked so hard for, and I was surprised by how little it meant. No joy, no lasting fulfillment, just the quiet realization that I had become hard, assertive, and goal-driven. I had shaped myself around women who prioritized success over softness, and I realized the image I had built of myself was no longer mine. It was painted in someone else’s colors.

I knew I needed to change. But where do you start when your whole life has been shaped by ideals that don’t resonate anymore? By chance, I watched a TV program about a woman in Russia who was teaching women how to reclaim their femininity. These were successful, strong women, just like me, who had lost their softness. And I thought, I want that too. I had buried my feminine side for years, and suddenly, I was ready to let her back in.

That turning point came as I moved back to my home country, Poland, where traditional gender roles were still more visible. It was easier there to tap into my feminine energy. But femininity isn’t about how you look, it’s about how you are. It’s about slowing down, softening, being. Letting others play a role in your life without assigning every part. It’s about letting go of control and learning to trust your own rhythm: your intuition, your feelings, your heart.

I started building my life around meaningful relationships instead of strategic ones. My interest in people deepened, and with it, my emotional capacity. I noticed I was moving away from people who only liked me when I was convenient, but shied away from my emotional depth. I started listening to my own natural rhythm and diving into my creative nature. I began hearing that small voice inside, the one I had ignored for so long. And I became louder, less filtered, less polished. I felt more like me.

I spent most of my 30s living in this feminine space, and in that time, I did things I can barely believe now. Why? Because I trusted life. I surrendered. I let my intuition lead. I walked away from artificial control (like birth control) and returned to the cyclical, raw rhythm of my body. I learned how to ride emotional waves instead of fearing them. Reclaiming my wild feminine nature was the most loving thing I could do for myself.

Looking back, that phase of my life was about becoming the woman I was always meant to be. It was about healing, maturing, rediscovering my essence, and finally letting go of being the “good girl.” When a woman speaks her truth, she becomes a threat to those who don’t. Reclaiming my power and stepping away from the comfort of other people’s expectations came with a cost. But when external validation stops mattering and you let your true voice take the lead, you understand something profound:

Being liked is optional.
Being valued is everything.

In a world where everyone wants to go viral, I chose to be real.

How to Keep Energy from Places Within

I recently visited Athens and didn’t expect the profound transformation this trip would bring, nor how it would stay with me energetically. We all know the pleasure of travel: the joy, the excitement. But once we return home and settle back into our routines, the lightness and pleasant energy we felt tends to fade.

I began wondering how I could make this fleeting energy last. That led me to reflect on spiritual practices. In these, too, we reach elevated states momentarily but train ourselves over time to maintain that energy more consistently, until we can eventually access it on demand.

What we do frequently becomes our frequency.

Now let’s shift to less pleasant situations. We all remember the feeling of dreading a job we disliked. Our bodies already anticipated the heaviness of the experience, making it hard to show up. In contrast, when going on vacation, it’s easy to leap out of bed at 5 a.m., fueled by excitement and anticipation.

Having a routine keeps us grounded, but we also need experiences that nudge us into the discomfort of the unknown. Excitement, positive anticipation, and unpredictability are key ingredients of a joyful life. So, back to the travel example: how can we stop ourselves from energetically slipping back into the mundane after a powerful experience?

1. Connect with Your Experience Energetically

When you travel or encounter something extraordinary, do it intentionally and with present-moment awareness. Travel has become a form of performance for many, and it’s common to see people glued to their phones, missing what’s happening around them. Truly being present is the first step to forming a deeper, lasting energetic connection.

2. Create Anchors and Rituals

While immersed in your experience, establish small rituals or “anchors” to revisit that energy later. These can include telling yourself a meaningful story, taking photos of specific details, or simply walking through a space with mindful curiosity. These moments become energetic bookmarks you can return to at any time.

3. Craft a Story of Meaning

Visiting a place superficially won’t leave a lasting impact. But when you create a personal narrative around your journey and internal shifts, the experience becomes part of you. It transforms into something no one can take away.

Visiting Athens right before my birthday felt divinely timed. As a Gemini, I’ve often been labeled “two-sided” or “dual-natured.” Just before my trip, I heard something powerful: that Geminis are messengers between the seen and unseen, the physical and the spiritual.

In Athens, I truly felt aligned with my nature: head in the sky, speaking to the gods; feet on the ground, discovering the city. I was deeply present, taking in the smells, sounds, colors, and light. I allowed myself to be flooded with emotion, attuned to the city’s shifting vibes. Simultaneously, I sensed a higher presence and the city’s energetic history.

It felt as though I were in two places at once, not in time or space, but in energy. The energy of an ancient empire and the energy of a modern Mediterranean metropolis. We don’t need time machines if we can tap into a place’s energy. I imagine this is how more advanced civilizations might have felt about us, seeing beyond the physical into the energetic realm.

Ultimately, forming a lasting energetic connection to a place depends on your ability to be fully present and emotionally open. In a world constantly pulling our attention outward, becoming the energy we seek is a radical act of rebellion and self-preservation.

A Note to my Younger Self

We move through life facing forward, but we only understand it when we look back. I used to think I was aware and made conscious decisions early on. But a recent visit from a school friend showed me how much of our path is shaped by things outside our control. Our emotional background, our upbringing, and the environment we grow up in leave little room for real freedom. Often, we just become what was programmed into us. Free will and building a life we truly love can feel like something out of reach, as if life is just happening to us.

When I ask people about their lives, most describe what happened to them rather than what they intentionally created. This is the difference between people who live out of fear and those who live from the heart. People guided by fear tend to play it safe, play small, and shape their lives to meet others’ expectations. In doing so, they give up the chance to live in alignment with who they really are.

Spending a week with this friend from the past was a meaningful experience. We hadn’t seen each other in 23 years. At 15, we were still untouched by much of what life would later bring. Telling your life story to someone who knew you back then feels very different. They’re not a stranger. They knew a version of you that most people in your adult life have never met. Being able to speak freely, without fear of being judged or misunderstood, was deeply healing.

We didn’t just talk about what happened in the last two decades. We also talked about what was really going on back then, beneath the surface. The emotional and mental patterns from our teenage years had a strong influence on what followed. Reflecting on that, together and openly, brought clarity. When someone truly listens and sees the full picture, with all its good and bad parts, it creates understanding.

If I could go back and say one thing to my younger self, it would be this: No one is coming to save you. You are the one who will make things happen. You are the turning point. When I stopped waiting for someone or something to fix my life, I saw that I had the power to change it. We are all born with the ability to create. Each of us has a purpose.

It took me a long time to figure out what mine is. I kept searching for answers. I tried coaching, courses, and even studied Kabbalah. Still, the answer stayed unclear. Maybe I didn’t trust that it would come when the time was right. I often felt like I didn’t fully belong anywhere. Being from Poland but growing up in Germany left me in between two worlds. Later, when I found the spiritual path, I understood I didn’t need to belong to any group or place.

I also often felt ungrounded, like I wasn’t attached to structure or tradition. I lived based on my inner compass and created my own rules. But trying to belong always felt restrictive. Looking back, I see now that I wasn’t meant to fit in. Maybe true connection in the way I hoped for isn’t part of this life’s path for me.

What I do know is this: I am here to help others feel connected. I do this by offering new perspectives, encouraging self-awareness, and supporting consciousness. Being in between cultures, ideas, and experiences is exactly where I need to be. It allows me to build bridges for people who want to explore something beyond the physical world. I feel most aligned when I can offer something true and meaningful, something that cuts through the noise and brings real value in a world that often feels distracted and disconnected.

How to Get Into the Habit of Just Doing It

The world is divided into thinkers and doers—and only about 20% of people are truly doers. Shocking, right? But that’s not the focus of this article.

Rather, this is about learning how to face challenges and move forward into unfamiliar territory. What happens when our routine is disrupted? When we’re pushed beyond the familiar and into unfamiliar territory? This matters now more than ever. In today’s rapidly changing world, losing a job can mean losing your professional identity—and being forced to reinvent yourself entirely.

Last year, I met someone who had just lost his job after 26 years. He was in his mid-50s and completely adrift. While spending time with him, I often heard him say, “I have no idea what I’ll be doing. I have no clue what I could do. I don’t know how this will end.” It became a sort of mantra, and all I could think was: This poor man—his mind won’t stop reminding him that he hasn’t even begun to figure things out.

What Happens After Loss

After any major life change, the first instinct is to assess your situation. Even if you welcomed the change, there comes a moment when your thoughts pull you inward. Suddenly, a reel of worst-case scenarios starts playing in your head. That voice? It’s your ego—trying to protect you by keeping you in your comfort zone, using fear as its tool.

Why the Mind Gets in the Way

You can’t discover new paths with old thinking. Most of your thoughts aren’t even original; they’re borrowed—recycled ideas picked up over time. When we face the unknown without an open heart, anxiety and fear rush in. Unfortunately, once your mental carousel starts spinning, it’s tough to slow it down and regain a sense of possibility.

But the ego isn’t all bad—it can also serve a purpose. It forces you to focus inward. In times of uncertainty, it’s important not to dismiss or suppress discomfort. Instead, sit with it. Acknowledge it. Reconnect with your goals and values, and then choose your new direction. I went through this myself last year while transitioning into a new career. It felt like I was wasting time, stuck in limbo. But I learned that creating a path is not the same as walking it.

Why Action Is Everything

My love-hate hobby is sewing. Why? Because, as a covert perfectionist, it challenges me to take action without having everything figured out in advance—and to learn by making mistakes. That’s what sewing is all about: doing, adjusting, and continuing. It’s uncomfortable because, as adults, we carry different expectations. We plan more. We’re more cautious. Somewhere along the way, we lost the freedom to not know—and just figure things out.

When I quit jobs or moved countries, people would ask, “What are you going to do there?” My answer was always, “How could I know? I’m not there yet.” We crave control and certainty—but they’re illusions.

To Move Forward, We Must Look Back

In today’s world, adaptability is one of the most valuable skills. Living through constant change demands the ability to figure things out. We must be willing to fail fast, learn quickly, and stay open to unexpected opportunities that may better align with our goals and values.

So why does it feel so uncomfortable?

Because following your own path is slower. It’s not the fast lane—it’s the pathless path. When you tune in to your inner compass, you won’t keep pace with the crowd. You’ll be carving your own way, step by step. That discomfort you feel? It’s the feeling of expanding beyond your comfort zone. What did you expect? If it feels uncomfortable, you’re probably on the right track.

Final Thoughts: Just Start Doing

Leaning into the unknown will never feel easy. The lack of certainty breeds anxiety, and your mind will scramble for answers. But the moment you stop overthinking and start doing—even clumsily—that’s when growth begins. One imperfect step at a time.

Blog at WordPress.com.

Up ↑