On Catholicism

I am not a practicing Catholic, and the last time I attended Mass was in my mid-teens. I've spent many hours teaching about the effects of patriarchy on women and women's bodies.

I've been observing the posts about abortion going back and forth on my timeline. My heart is with every woman - knowing that as women we have the inalieable right and ability to give and take life, and the simultaneous sorrow that many of these women are trapped and this is their last resort.

Bodily autonomy is my bottom line and I am particularly sensitive to cultural context when it comes to women. And so I leave a flower for all the life that returns to its Mother, and the lives of those who need so much love right here right now.

When I listen to abortion stories, I am always struck by the sorrow, the suffering and the self-love. The woman saying, I matter. I am the child who I am gifting new life to.

I've recently been wondering whether to get back into online dating and thinking of the good things about me... loyal, reliable, funny. What would be the cons of dating me? That I regularly bring home human placentas and statues of the Virgin Mary. Perhaps there is somebody out there who will find my idiosyncrasies charming. That remains to be seen.

When my mother describes her experience of Church I feel like I participate in this mutual love and worthiness. She talks about the flowers for Mothering Sunday and taking them to her grandmother after service, in particular the way that when you announced you were pregnant people were excited and pleased for you, as opposed to friends and family who made comments like "another one?" "what about money?" or "just as you were getting your life back too!"

Nobody thought you were too poor, had too many, were limiting yourself. They just saw the miracle in front of them. My mother said, they saw children as a blessing. This in turn made her feel blessed for that hour every week.

That is one of the beautiful things about the Catholic Church. At the centre of devotion you have a woman, a poor woman, birthing Love through her body. A child who will be a man who works with his hands, who could be classed as "uneducated" but brings forth words of truth and love from his heart. I know this was passed down to me as a shining example, influencing my life path, as all I know and revere is Sacred Mother.


I've always had a difficult relationship with God that I'm trying to heal. For a long time one of my biggest frustrations is that men would treat me like "the virgin mary", my exact words, somebody to be respected from afar but not touched. Then I see how nothing is black and white, that ideas can heal and harm.

Sometimes our biggest insecurities, what we try to run from within ourselves, is our biggest gift. It turns out she is the face of the Goddess I most relate to, who always answers, who never lets you down. She is very real and very touchable.

I doubt I will ever be a practising Catholic again. I don't like rules and I don't like ideas being set in stone. To me, learning is about staying curious as you meet beautiful new ideas you hadn't considered yet. And I think that's just how Jesus would have felt to those around him.

A font of beautiful new ideas that hadn't been considered yet.

I hope this brought you some value - from my heart to yours.

Seven Years

Yesterday I realised I've been doing this work for seven years.

From teaching baby massage to pregnancy yoga, to working as a babywearing consultant to running parenting groups, providing placenta remedies and of course doula support, I have worked with hundreds of women and babies.

Sometimes I forget how much I have done, how many families I have served. I often forget how much I know or where I learned it.

Some families stick in your memory as you begin to notice babies with certain personality types, as you see the effects of trauma playing out in front of you throwing out symptoms that speak to you like a neon sign. Tears come to your eyes as you see women putting one step in front of the other, for their babies, for themselves, with love.

The delicate dance of what do I know versus what does this situation need. That is wisdom.

Yesterday I got a beautiful text message from a client that reminded me why I do this work.

When you're hiring me you aren't just getting the doula service, or the remedies, or a baby sling... you're drawing upon the stories those many many dyads I have been privileged to walk with.

We are all connected, we are one.

Thank you, thank you, thank you.

Sovereignty

🏴󠁧󠁢󠁷󠁬󠁳󠁿 Sovereignty 🏴󠁧󠁢󠁷󠁬󠁳󠁿

I was talking to my mother this weekend about what it means to be Welsh, to be a Welsh woman.

Wales is in its essence a matricentric culture- where the home and social life is centred around the women and their doings. Historically Welsh women had much more rights than their English counterparts, they could get a divorce for adultery and once widowed could not be compelled to marry again.

Why so different in Wales?

In the tales of the Mabinogion, the Welsh myths and legends, if you peek through the Christianised telling of the tales about fickle and treacherous women, you can see the Goddess clearly. Whatever happens to them, these women belong to themselves.

In Wales the Goddess is named Sovereignty and what appears to be unacceptable behaviour to men is the divine feminine choosing the best steward for her land. The mistake these men make is expecting loyalty - the Goddess has her own interests at heart and belongs to none of them.

In the Arthurian legend of Gawain and Dame Ragnelle, Arthur searches desperately for an answer to the riddle that will save his life - what do women most want? It takes Gawain literally kissing a hag (embracing the dark feminine) for them to get the answer.

Women want sovereignty. They want to belong to themselves.

My aunt at my wedding warned my husband about marrying a Welsh woman - she wasn't wrong.

Dear woman, the mistake everybody makes is thinking that you belong to them.

With love from Wales x