Chapter 34: Devotion
On Sacred Exchange
These are chapter-by-chapter excerpts from my book, Fertile Like a Mother, Fertile Like a Lover. If you’re just finding your way here, you might want to start from the beginning — each piece builds on the last.
The next year or so after ending my marriage felt like wandering in the desert. Like I had left the village and could still turn around and see it behind me, but it was getting farther away, and I couldn’t yet see what lay ahead. I knew, though, that whatever was coming would be a life of my making. That I would meet it as me. This version of me, who knows what she wants and needs, and knows what feels like love and what doesn’t.
I dated casually for a while, mostly for fun. I wanted to create stability for my kids, so I wasn’t looking for a new life partner. I mostly dated men in open relationships. I can see now that I was only somewhat available, and so I was finding men who were only somewhat available too.
About a year and a half after I ended my marriage, I went on a trip with my Alchemical teachers, the first they had hosted since Covid. It was held at Playa Viva, a beautiful eco-resort in Petatlán, Mexico. We stayed in treehouses overlooking the ocean, practiced yoga every morning, and ate food grown and raised right on the land.
It was a small group. Besides Benjamin, there was just one other man there. I had met him once before, five years earlier, at a retreat in Santa Fe. I barely remembered him, and I know I hadn’t felt anything about him one way or another.
This time was different.
Despite the fact that he was there with his very sweet, very young, very adorable girlfriend, I developed a crush. A big one.
I recognized the familiar pull immediately. The longing. The way someone unavailable becomes bright and shiny and suddenly holds an outsized amount of psychic real estate. I knew what it was. Another animus projection.
At first, I was annoyed with myself. I had done so much work around my animus. I thought we were in a good place. I had hoped that the next person I felt drawn to would actually be available.
But I also knew the drill. I knew that whatever I was fantasizing about had far less to do with him than with me. Yes, he was very handsome. A nice guy. But that was all I knew about him. So whatever qualities I was projecting onto him were pointing me back toward something inside myself that wanted my attention.
What I imagined wasn’t very specific. I imagined depth. Presence. Intensity. Passion. Mostly, I wanted to feel his energy and feel mine meeting it. I wanted mutual attention. Energy exchange. Aliveness.
As I sat with the longing, something became clear.
Over the past few years, I had done a lot of work extricating the immature, distorted masculine from my system. I had leaned into my animus as a source of safety and support. I had allowed him to adore me, protect me, believe in me, stand with me.
But I hadn’t really turned toward him.
I had allowed him to adore me, protect me, believe in me, stand with me.
But I hadn’t really turned toward him.
I had let the Masculine love my Feminine. I had received his care. But I hadn’t integrated the healthy Masculine as myself. I hadn’t acknowledged him beyond noticing that he was no longer harsh or punitive. I had been learning to receive, and suddenly I realized that it was time to return the energy.
I decided to write down the qualities I could feel and appreciate in my inner masculine.
My animus is:
Magnetic and attractive, and aware of the responsibility of his sexuality. Initiatory. He sees what needs to be done and takes the next right step. Loving, kind, and deeply protective. In relationship with his own emotional body. Attentive to health — emotional, physical, and spiritual. Able to laugh easily and find joy in life. Willing to stretch and grow without force. Clear in communication. Grounded in integrity.
As I wrote, I felt a wave of gratitude move through me. What I would call devotional gratitude. These qualities had been showing up in my life for years. They had been shaping my choices, my boundaries, my capacity to care for myself. And somehow, I had never paused to really see them.
My relationship with my animus had remained somewhat unconscious. Healthier, kinder, but still one-sided. He was showing up for my Feminine again and again, and it had never occurred to me to thank him.
I decided to begin a gratitude practice. Whenever I noticed myself acting from the care or protection of my animus, I would pause and acknowledge him. I would let myself feel appreciation and consciously return the energy.
I added one more line to my list:
He is open and receptive to my love. He receives my love. He wants my love and says yes to love.
Our outer world reflects our inner world. If sacred exchange was what I wanted in relationship, I knew it had to begin inside myself.
Dr. Kelly Brogan calls this “self-husbanding.” I don’t love the term, but I understand what she’s pointing to. I think of it as inviting in my animus. Relating to myself with protection, discernment, and devotion.
Self-mothering had been an important part of my healing. That love is nurturing, soft, and forgiving. Relating to my animus feels different. It has a more disciplined quality. Not punitive, but benevolent. Devoted to my long-term well-being.
Without my animus, my care could easily become indulgent. Comfort without direction. Feeling without movement. If I were only leaning into Mama love, I might want to lounge around all day, eating ice cream and feeling all the feelings, all the time. That would work for a time. But my animus knows that yin needs direction, or it will waste itself.
If I were only leaning into Mama love, I might want to lounge around all day, eating, feeling, being comfortable.
For me, this looks like getting myself to the gym because I know my body feels better when I move. Putting myself to bed at 9:30 because sleep is medicine. Cleaning my space because I feel more creative and alive when my environment is clear. Having hard conversations because relationships only feel good to me when I can be real.
Once I knew that I had myself, I had my own back, and that I could rely on my animus for safety and direction, a new question emerged. How could I show up in devotional love for him?
When I felt into it, the answer was simple.
Appreciation.
Acknowledgment.
Awareness of how good it feels to be protected, supported, and met.
The Feminine had gotten out of the shadow of the immature masculine and had let the Mature Masculine shine his light on her. She’d been dancing in and thriving in that light.
Now she could finally turn around and see the sun. To acknowledge how good it felt to receive his warmth and light.
And then keep dancing.
Upcoming: Chapter 35: Alive
But now I see that there will be no ending. My path has always been a spiral. I have been circling the same truths, the same lessons, and like all living things, deepening by returning. Unraveling and reweaving. Coming home again and again, each time with more awareness about who I am and how I want to live. Each time, more fully me.