Chapter 1: Heartland

The following is a draft first chapter of a book about women reclaiming our feminine resources. I call this the journey to the “Heartland.”

I was living in a man’s house, packing up my belongings after living there for less than a year. I’d moved my child, two cats, and everything I owned to this property per an invitation to “make a life together,” and here it was, the winter holidays, and he was in Ohio with his mother escaping the situation that was going down in his 920 square foot house. Which was: me, boxes everywhere, and everything he didn’t want to face.

I had actually paid him rent. 

He invited us to live with him, but he had wanted some rent. I paid it because he wasn’t rich, we were both entrepreneurs, and I didn’t mind contributing. I will never again move into a man’s house and pay rent. But there were a lot of things we potentially should have made clearer agreements on to prior to making the decision to move in together. 

Live and learn – isn’t that the name of the game? 

I had sent him an email that asked for the last rent back, since I wouldn’t be staying, to reallocate to the moving costs. I think it had actually been his suggestion, and I was following up on it. 

I sat down, at dusk, surrounded by piles of boxes at the kitchen table (my barn wood table that I’d now be moving back to storage), just moments before I had to host an online women’s group, and opened his reply email which said, “I will assess how you’ve left the place, after you’ve moved out, and if it is in a condition that I approve of, I will refund you your money. I will be assessing the house, the barn, and my wood pile.” 

“His wood pile?” I thought.  

Why the wood pile? Why would I ever touch the wood pile? The wood was his to use when he lit the wood stove in the barn, which I never did. Why would he even think to “assess” me on the condition of his wood pile before he gave me back the money that he’d already agreed to give me? These new conditions didn’t even make sense. 

And, it angered me, because I had never once disrespected the property or the house. He had invited us to make a home, and I had treated it as such. I was not at all the kind of person to take vengeance on his property. Why did he all of a sudden assume this? 

I couldn’t even begin to imagine how he had managed to rationalize whether or not I would get the money he’d already said he’d reimburse me, now conditionally based on the quality of his wood pile. Of all things!  

I was so tired of being assessed. He had asked me and my child to move in with him, to “make a life with him,” just months prior. It was six months from our move in date to his “never mind” date. A man who had never lived with a woman, let alone her child and two cats. A man who had seemed like a sure thing, like a safe bet. He volunteered with teen boys’ groups, he woke up early to pray every morning, he had even prayed when he made love to me and miracles happened (which was essentially the reason I had said yes – it was like God was there between us). He felt like a safe bet because he’d seemed innocent and good hearted, and I was trying to ensure that this kind of shit would never happen again. Because I’d seen it all before. 

Going after the girl, getting the girl, wanting the girl to reflect your manhood to you, and the “never mind” moment when they saw themselves in me (Oh, I’m not actually the man I promised you I was), and then, it is amazing how men will blame a woman for that moment of felt-inadequacy. I’d fallen for the man many times who wanted to be “that guy,” and then realized he actually wasn’t, but it’s easier to dismiss the woman than to be the man who actually looks at his shit. 

Not all men. I’m not a man hater. But I know this pattern really, really well. There seemed to be a tangle when I got involved with men – where my resources would somehow be threatened. I had been an entrepreneur for three years at that point, and this was the second relationship that I’d involved myself with that ended up making my life much harder rather than easier or more pleasurable. This was the second relationship in three years that ended up costing me a lot of money rather than resulting in me having more time and energy for my business and family. And, these relationships, not surprisingly, in the end looked and felt a lot like my relationship to my father. I’d seen this pattern with a previous boss and with prior partners too. It seemed to be everywhere and I was somehow late to truly waking up to it, even though I analyzed masculine and feminine all the time. 

There was always the really good beginning, and then the really surprising ending. There was wanting to believe the man, and then the dark shadow of the man revealed something much different. And I was the common denominator. I was somehow getting myself into a revolving pattern. And I was determined to figure it out and put a stop to it for absolute good. 

I was depleted. 

I was having to find energy where I didn’t know if I had any left. 

I had cried with my forehead to the soil on this sacred, sacred piece of property, asking “Why?” 

I had even allowed myself to get to the point where I was sending this goner an email saying, “Hey, can I get that money back please to pay other men to move my things for the second time this year?” 

You could say I was at a breaking point. But not a mental-break, the kind of breaking point where you say “no more” about a pattern in your life, and you fucking mean it. 

The wood pile comment, and his promise to assess me based on his bizarro parameters, and decide whether or not I would have access to the resources that he’d already volunteered to reimburse me for my move, was the last straw. 

I was a grown woman, a mother, who had made a home in his home per his invitation. There was no part of me that would want to harm anything here. I had a deep connection with the land, and experienced deep and corresponding spiritual realizations and awakenings in relationship to this sacred place. I was having a harder time leaving the land than I was leaving him. Him, I was done with. He could drop me and my child when the honeymoon period wore off, and this lack of allegiance, again, I’d seen before so I wasn’t even that emotional about it. Fine. I’d put my eggs in the wrong basket. Now I had to pack up my entire life of belongings, give away the new trampoline and basketball hoop I’d bought for my son, be unsure for months what exact next move I would make – and all of that felt more like a pain in the ass than something that victimized me. Before, I would have fretted and felt like a victim, but not this time. 

This time, it was just a pattern. This time, it was just the end. Here was this pattern, showing up with this man, who, I was sure months earlier would never have dreamed of or approved of the sort of behavior he was now demonstrating. He was a stranger now. 

It was like a dark, trickster bug got into these men, these men who had loved me and laid with me, who wanted to see themselves as my partner and as a parental figure and masculine influence for my son, and then would get to a point where they literally did not care about my wellbeing. They did not care. At one point he had said (in a text because he never even had a conversation to my face), “I don’t care where you go. Just get out. And don’t pull that single-mom card with me.”  They always turned on you. Starting with my father. The dark got into them and they would turn into something unrecognizable. 

And, there was always an element of control. “If you behave to my liking, I’ll reimburse the money you’d given me. But it’s based on my assessment. And the state of my wood pile.” Control, control, control. 

Which is when I snapped. 

Snapped in the best possible way. 

Snapped in the way a woman who has been trying to be good finally breaks free of the bondage of contortion. Snapped like that lead character in Fried Green Tomatoes as she screams “TOWANDA!” as she smashes the young guy’s car because she’s tired of being a doormat. Snapped like I was going to get that reoccurring dark trickster bug out of my fucking life if it was the last thing I did. 

I had to stand up to it. If I didn’t, it would never go away, and it had hunted me down so many times, and I didn’t have the resources to keep losing. This was the end. This trickster who took without replenishing, who would cause a man to watch my demise and detach from his heart. This trickster that would withhold resources, time and again, just like my father had, until he approved of my behavior. 

I knew that trickster inside my father, inside previous partners. I had known this energy my entire life. It used to scare me, but not any more.  Now, I was going to get it the fuck OUT of my life. 

“The wood pile? You’re going to assess me on the condition of the wood pile?” Game on, fucker. 

The heat rose in me, fueled by an eruption of previously-suppressed, primal emotion. I was clear headed, decisive – I wasn’t crazy. My movements became bigger. I became bigger. 

I looked at the clock and gauged that I had about eighteen minutes before I had to host my call. I found a headlamp and shoved it over my messy hair to see in the dark. I put on the old garden gloves I’d almost pitched while packing the day before. And I put on my winter coat, though I would be sweating by the time I was done. 

I found my way in the dark to the wood pile. 

THE wood pile. 

I knew the one he was referring to. Some of it had been chopped, and some of it was still in large, round pieces. And I carried each piece of that fucking wood pile through the yard, to the nearby cliff. And then I heaved each piece, one by one, over the edge. Towanda. 

“Assess me on the fucking wood pile!” HEAVE! 

“Go right ahead!” GUH!

“Hold my resources over my head and look what happens!” THROW! 

“A few hundred dollars? Really? You want to control me based on a few hundred dollars?” HUH! 

“Best money I have EVER spent!” GAHHHH! 

I’m sure the neighbors heard me. I no longer cared about impressions.  

Fifteen minutes. Ten. I had time. I’d be there. And I’d share my choice – this conscious and wild choice – with them, unashamed. The call was, after all, about women taking our power back through a process I call Sacred Remembering. I teach energy sovereignty. I have been doing the work of actively reclaiming my energy from trickster energies and outdated paradigms, but I’d be damned that I had let myself get into another situation of feminine depletion. 

No. More. 

It was exhilarating. I was standing up to this fucking trickster that had haunted me my entire life, I would no longer, not ever again, be controlled by it. The trickster that for my entire life would seek to control me with one thread of direct threat to my resources and then another. Through various men. Always a similar story. 

A destroyer presence. A taker of my energy. A power-player over my resources. But it was getting weaker, clearly, because it was grasping for a few hundred dollars and controlling me over what, a wood pile? It was certainly losing it’s power. And I would ensure that this would be it’s last grab as far as I was EVER concerned. 

I had felt it’s presence forever. The way it lived in men, in people in positions of power, in patriarchy itself. 

The threat that was immanent in so many ways – behave, or lose. Conform, or lose. Obey, or lose. Listen to me, or lose. 

“NO MORE!” 

HEAVE! 

NO MORE. 

Period. 

It was done when I threw the last, giant second of log over the edge. 

No more. 

I felt the trickster’s power die in that moment. 

I’d been fighting this thing for so long, and I had sworn that before I left this place, I would figure this out. I had actually said that to him, when he said one day in October that he was done. I said, “Well, you can wait a damn minute until I figure things out.” And I also said, “I’ll go when the land tells me it’s time to go.” 

The land and I weren’t finished yet. And I wasn’t leaving a victim. Not this time. 

I would figure out why I could be loved by men and then just as easily depleted and discarded. I was somehow attracting and allowing it, yes. And, that trickster entity was not inside of that man when we started. It was like he was infiltrated and then began acting against me. I believe he was. It’s the dark arts of the Destroyer. Sending it’s dark forces into men when women get too big for their britches. These poor men don’t even see it coming, this ego-identification that makes them a pawn to destroy the feminine. 

“Fuck her and her resources,” they say. 

I had finally stood up to all the ways I had been taken advantage of, all the ways that my resources had been threatened in my life by a man invaded with the trickster. 

And I was done. 

I was sweating and panting. I was dirty and unpresentable. I was a wild woman. And I went in, sat down at the table, surrounded by boxes, and told the women what had just happened. 

Because I wasn’t ashamed. I had just taken my power back. 

Best money I had ever spent. 

In the end, in the email he sent me with his arbitrary tally and justification of what he was reimbursing and why, he only deducted $50 for the wood pile. (Wink.) 

Learn more about Heartland for women to move from depletion to replenishment at www.sarahpoet.com/heartland.

Lower masculine is not the destroyer, but it can be.

With so many women angry at men and with so many women lumping together “masculine” with “patriarchy,” I felt it time to address this.

With so many women angry at men, with so many women who have been harmed by men and patriarchy, and with so many women lumping together “masculine” with “patriarchy,” I felt it time to address this.

I am going to use my own vocabulary to explain this, so please first allow me to define the terms I’m using.

Patriarchy: System of oppression that hijacked feminine energy (including the life force of indigenous people and people of color) and utilized that stolen energy for its own gain. It is a system of destruction, which I say without emotion. I’m simply stating the energetics. Patriarchy is a taker system.

Lower masculine: This is the primarily unconscious and default masculinity in a patriarchy that lives for power, greed, consumption, and its sense of provision and protection are absent or collapsed. Imagine it’s like the opposite of a Kingly masculine like King Arthur embodied. The lower masculine is present in men – for example men that want to feed off of a woman’s life force energy, men that want to have the power and control, or men that don’t have a sense of provisional capacity to care for women and children and they spend a lot of time feeling like a victim to women. But lower masculine can also be present in women, in organizations, in everyone, because everyone (and every organization, every system) has both feminine and masculine energetics.

Destroyer: This is my term for the dark energy that wants to take from the feminine, from women, from Earth, and from holistic systems. This energy wants to prevent the evolution of consciousness that would include true community values and equal distribution of resources. This energy, in my opinion, fueled patriarchy and we wouldn’t have patriarchy as it stands without it. Patriarchy was successful because of the taker energy, but resulting in massive separation and a depletion of the feminine energetic.

Can lower masculine also include the destroyer energetic? It can, but it is not always true – which is nuanced and the point of this article.

When a woman has been hurt by systems of oppression in her life, for example at work, and she looks around and sees men in suits, and women in pantsuits emulating the men, and she feels targeted by this, she may think to herself and draw the conclusion that, “Men perpetuate destroyer energetics.” But then she can look at the systems, at the fact that women also participate in these destroyer systems, and she can find examples of men who seem to want to help rather than hurt, and she’d have to admit that these two are not one and the same. Equating men with destroyer is actually irresponsible and limiting on the part of women. It limits men’s capacity and is unkind.

Lower masculine can be a destroyer. It can be out for itself and be maliciously willing to take another’s energy (or Earth energy). But it can also be more innocent. It’s still unconscious, so I’m not making excuses or letting it completely off the hook, but unconscious lower masculine behaviors look different. A man can want too much of a woman’s attention, he can put a woman above fulfilling his purpose in the world and find himself lost, or he can avoid his own quest for consciousness in favor of the emotional reinforcement he gets from women in his life, but while this is unconscious and “lower masculine,” it doesn’t make him a destroyer. It can also deplete women’s energy, which feels destructive, but it’s not malicious. Dealing with unconscious lower masculine energetics as a woman is different than a strategy to deal with destroyer energetics. This is nuanced and women may reach out to me privately with their individual situations and questions, which I can answer in private mentorships or in my membership.

A man operating in lower masculine is operating in taker energetics – yes, somewhat, but more because he hasn’t resolved the Mother Wound than anything else. This man is not overtaken by the dark of the Destroyer.

What it looks like when the Destroyer overtakes a man is when a man is in an ego-identification (unconscious) and something within his unresolved ego personality gets triggered. He gets angry about it, maybe has a defensive tendency. Maybe someone in his life asked him to take accountability for something he’s not ready to look at. And instead of allowing himself to see this as an opportunity for his own integration and advancement, he actually attacks the person or system that is trying to get him to look at himself. It’s like a little devil destroyer energy close by says, “Look, he’s susceptible to taking on our energy. Let’s infiltrate.” Or, the man is overtaken by greed, the quest for power, the willingness to destroy the feminine, to dominate to preserve the ego, and the like. A primary doorway for the Destroyer to get into men is also through their avoidant addictions. This leaves his energy body open and susceptible to dark attack.

Can the Destroyer also enter into women or any human? Yes.

Is the Destroyer the equivalent of man or even lower masculinity? No. But it is the equivalent of patriarchy, by definition of patriarchy being a system that perpetually attempts to establish dominion.

Just because a man is unconscious does not make him a destroyer. Women would do well to distinguish this, because you do not need to have so much fear. When we understand these nuances, we can not fear the blanket “masculine” and discern where to draw boundaries, where to support, where to stay in our lane. There are plenty of ways for women to relate to both lower masculine and the destroyer energetic that set them free instead of lock them into these energetics as truth. These do not have to be energetics that you even associate with, except to know your sovereign stance in reference to it.

Lastly, let’s define, for consideration, two more terms:

Conscious Masculinity: The decision to turn the inherited patterns from patriarchy and unconscious/lower masculine into conscious masculine behaviors. This requires much inner excavation and soul reclamation. It requires commitment on the part of men to look at where they sink down low into destroyer or lower masculine tendencies for attention, love, to secure resources, etc. It requires leadership to forge a new paradigm of masculinity that can be trusted and emulated into the future. And, yes, all humans are responsible for their own inner aspect of conscious masculinity. As a cis-gendered woman, I too am responsible for excavating my own inner masculine and continually bringing forth conscious masculine patterns through my actions as well.

Sacred Masculine: This is a very misused term, in my opinion, because many want to apply this to men themselves. The Sacred Masculine is the perfection of the Holy Masculine – the Yang, the Shiva, the Holy Father of Creation. These are pristine energetics that we can reference through archetypes. No doubt, these archetypal templates are activating guides on our path as humans. And, while humans are of course sacred, humans are not archetypes of the sacred. To me, the Archetype of the Holy Father (I’m not referencing religion, but rather the Father of Creation) is pure perfection, and I wouldn’t expect any one person or man to embody it fully. Not as modern day humans with so much confusion and distortion – it’s impossible to be a perfected archetype. And, that’s not the point. The point is to reference the supreme Sacred Masculine archetype as guidance, to invite this template to be an activation in the psyche, and to quest toward integrating the shadow and ego personality toward the sacred expression of masculinity.

I don’t expect men to be perfect emanations of the sacred masculine. I do expect men to become conscious of lower masculine, integrate and heal their Mother Wounding, be as conscious as possible, and not only do I expect men to not perpetuate the Destroyer energetic, I expect men to help set it straight as they embody their warrior nature in preservation and protection of all that is innocent, and that which has been oppressed.

And I expect men to disarm the Destroyer alongside conscious women, if not more so. When men recognize the destroyer for what it is and rise into conscious masculinity, the destroyer will be far less powerful and systems of oppression will lose quite a bit of power.

There is sacred, holy power in masculinity. It should not be cut down, diminished, or lumped with the destroyer.

Stop shaming “wounded feminine.”

What is the wounded feminine that we would shame? It is a depleted feminine, but one that is in active identification with that depletion.

I’ve been thinking lately about how we shame the “wounded feminine.” Collectively, I sense that we do this, after we realize what the “wounded feminine” is, we shame the feminine for being wounded. 

What a patriarchal thing to do. 

But these expectations of the feminine live in each of us – that it be altogether nourishing, open, motherly, sacred, divine. That it be forever giving, endlessly available. You can check in with yourself about what your expectations of the feminine are – in yourself and in others. Also, your expectations of the Earth, as feminine, in her great resources. Do you expect it to be ever-available to you? 

Which brings me to my point – we have wounded the feminine. Yes, patriarchy as it consumed the feminine as the fuel for it’s machine, but also, every one of us has participated in this. 

We’ve simultaneously expected the feminine to be all things (the Mother), to be ever-resourced, to be available at any moment (the Whore), and then shamed the feminine for it’s depletion. 


What is the wounded feminine that we would shame? It is a depleted feminine, but one that is in active identification with that depletion. The wounded feminine has not yet realized how to become re-resourced. (Re-sourced.) 

The wounded feminine is often in victim consciousness, struggles to have enough money and resources, wants a rescue, becomes emotionally manipulative to get it’s needs met, and doesn’t see any way out of its own struggle. It doesn’t know who it is or how powerful it actually is. 

And instead of collectively saying, “Of course! Wounded feminine, I’m here for you! Let me help because I see that of course this would be the natural effect of thousands of years of raping and pillaging!” we instead shame it for ever being weak. For not being more “sacred.” For needing the masculine rescue, when we entrained it to need a masculine rescue. 

What is the medicine for the wounded feminine? Not a big strong masculine for it to further submit to. No. The medicine is love. Remembering its innate creative power. Remembering the holy cosmic union between masculine and feminine that was free of distortion in originality, before thousands of years of skewed understandings of disempowerment and power-over. 

Stop shaming the wounded feminine – in you, in everyone – which only serves to further deplete Her. Love Her up. Now more than ever. She’s on the rise and she needs your tender strength. 

Private coaching with Sarah Poet available here: https://www.sarahpoet.com/privatementorships

A letter to modern women

I IMAGINE YOU’VE BEEN FEELING LIKE YOU’RE LIVING A DOUBLE LIFE – THE ONE OTHERS CAN SEE AND THE ONE YOU KEEP QUIET FROM EVERYONE ELSE. YOU CRAVE MORE OF THE AUTHENTIC YOU, THE SPIRITUAL TRUTH, AND A LIFE OF YOUR OWN CHOOSING WHERE YOU GET TO BE MORE FREE, MORE ALIVE. 

I IMAGINE YOU’VE BEEN FEELING LIKE YOU’RE LIVING A DOUBLE LIFE – THE ONE OTHERS CAN SEE AND THE ONE YOU KEEP QUIET FROM EVERYONE ELSE.

YOU CRAVE MORE OF THE AUTHENTIC YOU, THE SPIRITUAL TRUTH, AND A LIFE OF YOUR OWN CHOOSING WHERE YOU GET TO BE MORE FREE, MORE ALIVE. 


Your heart aches to step more fully into the world you imagine is possible. You want to be fully you, everywhere. 

You want to know what “fully you” even means. You question whether or not this is for you, this life of authenticity, deep soul knowing, and flow – but something in you whispers, “Keep going. Keep walking toward it.” 

It feels like home – this You. 

I know that this modern world makes it pretty damn hard to be yourself. You were sold a story about how to make something of yourself, how to succeed, and you’ve been following those rules, but you haven’t reached fulfillment.

You’re likely sad and agitated and pissed for feeling you’ve wasted time. 

I assure you – you are right on time. 

You know there is a lot to uncover. You know it doesn’t have to be such a struggle to be yourself, to honor your heart, to love and to be loved. 

You want to speak your truth. You want to be courageous. You don’t want to be among the generations of women who couldn’t say or do or be who they wanted to be. 

You are so right. On all accounts. You are not weird or crazy, and you are just the right amount of “different” – because the world needs your difference. Your courage. Your unique perspective. Your passion. Your ideas. Your leadership – just by being who you are most meant to be.

The solutions to what the world needs are inside of modern women. I know and believe this entirely. The answers are inside of women, and inside of you.

There is a lot to uncover. This path – back to your physical, emotional, mental, spiritual, energetic sovereignty – is a path packed with mystery, celebrations, reclamations, and WTF moments. This path is one soulful uncovering after another. It’s never done. And it always, ultimately, gets better. I want to help ensure that.

Your greatest hope is that you discover the true depth of who you are. 

My hope is that you find the truest, most sacred version of you. 

So here is my wish for you, love. That you listen to the whisper – the one that is getting louder. That you trust your radical, creative nature even when no one else around you understands. 

I am here for you on your journey, because my truth is that it is my joy, purpose, & mission to serve modern women, like you, waking up to the truth of who you are. 

I dimmed my light. Oh yes I did. I fought with myself about who I really was. Some days I still do. I was a double-master’s degree school principal and I was good at it. It didn’t make “logical” sense for me to walk away from the resumé I had built or the house I had bought. It didn’t make “sense” for me to follow my soul in the way that I have chosen to.

I was an accredited leadership professional and yet I knew that if I didn’t also honor the whole of myself, I wasn’t actually succeeding. So I followed my own calling, making many mistakes along the way – and all of the mistakes occurred when I mistrusted myself. And all of the glory-moments came when I listened to my own truth, my own calling – sometimes a whisper and sometimes a shout. 

But it is so worth it – this path of personal reclamation. Your energy is your own. Your relationship with what is holy is your own. (Yes, religious trauma is a thing, just like patriarchal trauma, emotional trauma, and money trauma are also real things. Your hunch is correct – it was not okay.) Your life is your own.

You get to be you. You wouldn’t be here otherwise. The world needs your gifts. The world needs your leadership. 

I will never tell you that this path will be a cake walk. We are changing the world with our courageous “yes” to ourselves as women awakening to the truth. Many will not want this current boat to be rocked, which will create resistance for you. And so my intention is that in this space, you have resources. You have community. You have safety and support and reminders that you are a sacred badass and then some. We are stronger together. 

WE ARE HERE TO GIVE OUR INTUITION VOICE. WE ARE HERE TO RECLAIM THE HEALTH OF EVERY CELL OF OUR BODIES. WE ARE HERE TO HONOR THE SACRED FEMININE RIGHT NEXT TO THE SACRED MASCULINE. WE ARE HERE TO BE AND DO AND LOVE IN THE BIGGEST WAYS THAT WOMEN EVER HAVE. WE ARE HERE TO LEAD – WITH HEART, WITH HOLISTIC PERSPECTIVE, WITH BALANCED KNOWING. 


The time is now. Yes, listen to your “yes.” Know you. Don’t ever stop. 

I look forward to meeting you, connecting with you, and honoring your path.

I am here for you!  

All my love, 

Sarah Poet