Softness is Strength

For a long time, I didn’t understand what it truly meant to be in my feminine energy. Growing up, I associated it with being “girly,” weak, or powerless. Strength, I thought, wasn’t about force or aggression—it was about being able to handle everything, carrying life’s weight alone, and never showing emotions or crying. If you allowed yourself to feel or be vulnerable, it meant you weren’t strong enough.

Through my spiritual journey, I’ve learned that feminine energy is not weakness—it is grace, self-love, and trust in life. It’s being gentle with yourself, honoring your internal and external beauty, feeling safe in your space, and trusting every step you take. It’s giving yourself the love you crave from others and learning that softness is a form of power. Feminine energy is intuitive, fluid, nurturing, and deeply connected to the soul.

For most of my life, I lived in survival mode. I had to be strong—often too strong—for my own sake and for the people depending on me. I grew up mostly with my mother, navigating our rocky mother-daughter relationship, learning early that I needed to handle my emotions on my own. I didn’t understand them in the way others seemed to, and I carried that sense of responsibility and toughness into adulthood. At 19, having my son and facing challenges with his father as a single mother added even more weight. I was angry, overwhelmed, and often numbed my feelings with alcohol. Stopping drinking cold turkey was a pivotal moment in my path toward healing and reclaiming my softness.

Even now, stepping into my feminine energy isn’t easy. Decades of survival instincts make vulnerability feel risky. But when I am reminded that I am not alone—that I don’t have to do everything on my own—I feel lighter. Opening the door to softness is sometimes accompanied by tears and fear, yet it also brings freedom, connection, and peace.

One of the most profound lessons in embracing softness came during a ceremony with Abuelita Ayahuasca. I was completely alone, crawling on small pebbles that pierced my knees, unable to see clearly without my glasses, and far from the facilitators and other participants. In that moment, the medicine whispered: “No tienes que hacer todo sola, pide ayuda”—“You don’t have to do everything alone, ask for help.”

At first, I resisted. I didn’t want to bother anyone, so I tried to stand on my own—but I couldn’t. The medicine held me there, forcing me to surrender to the vulnerability I had been avoiding. Eventually, I cried out for help, and someone came to me—a person who is now a close friend walking alongside me on this journey. That moment taught me that true strength lies not in carrying everything alone or hiding your feelings, but in allowing yourself to be seen and asking for help when you need it.

Breathing, surrender, and practices like Let Go, Let God have helped me navigate the tension between survival-mode toughness and the softness I am learning to embody. Rituals and ancestral medicine—Hapé, cacao, Ayahuasca—have been key tools on this path. They have helped me heal not only my own traumas, fears, and insecurities but also the generational patterns I am breaking for myself and my son. I am learning that many before me normalized pain, anger, and emotional suppression—but I choose differently.

Fears and resistance still arise when stepping out of survival and into feminine energy: fear of being let down, of being judged, of vulnerability being mistaken for weakness. But with each practice, each moment of surrender, each act of asking for help, I am reminded that softness is not a flaw—it is strength. It allows me to connect deeply, support others with empathy, and live in alignment with my spirit.

Embracing softness has also transformed how I show up for others. I can hold space for people without judgment, recognize that we are all navigating life’s cycles, and understand that it’s okay to make mistakes. Softness allows me to lead with the heart, modeling self-love and compassion, and creating an environment where healing and growth can flourish.

True spiritual strength is soft. It is grace, presence, surrender, and trust. It is feminine energy in action: flowing, intuitive, nurturing, and powerful. Softness does not mean giving up; it means standing firm in your truth while opening your heart. It is the strength that heals, aligns, and transforms.

The more we soften, the more we become whole. The more we trust, surrender, and open to support, the more we realize that our vulnerability is our power. And in that space, we find freedom, love, and spiritual strength beyond what survival alone could ever teach us.