Releasing with the Moon, Honoring My Mother
“At her first bleeding a woman meets her power. During her bleeding years she practices it. At menopause she becomes it.”
— Lucy H. Pearce, Moon Time: Harness the Ever-Changing Energy of Your Menstrual Cycle
As I sink into this cycle and feel the waves of release moving through me, I can’t help but reflect on the women who came before me—especially my mother. My own bleeding connects me back to her, to her stories, to her unspoken resilience. It feels as though every cramp, every tear, every gentle moment of rest is not only mine, but also part of the lineage I carry.
As I sit here in my menstruation phase, I feel waves of emotions rising within me. For the past few cycles, my mother has been coming to my mind so often. Today, with tears rolling down my cheeks, I realize something I wish I had seen earlier in life: I never truly saw her as a woman. To me, she was always just my mother — loving, giving, and carrying so much on her shoulders.
It was only when I started to connect more deeply with my feminine energy — embracing my needs, my fears, my limitations, and my own struggles — that I began to see her differently. I began to understand that she, too, had needs. That she, too, had fears. That she, too, was a woman, not just a role. I wish I had seen this more clearly before she left the physical world.
I did begin to realize it in her last years, when I was her caregiver, watching her fragility and her tenderness. But now, as I evolve and peel back more layers of myself, it feels like something is still there, lingering — something I am holding on to. A weight that is asking to be released.
I believe this is part of generational trauma — something passed from her to me, and perhaps through her from generations before. My body, my womb, my tears seem to be asking me to let it go, to free both her and myself.
And how beautiful that this comes during my bleeding days, when the body itself is releasing. Menstruation is not just a physical cleansing; it is emotional, spiritual, ancestral. It is a time when the veil between us and the unseen feels thinner. A time when the moon, too, whispers to us.
The moon has always been a guide for women. Its cycles mirror ours: waxing with energy, shining in fullness, waning in rest, and disappearing into darkness — only to return again. To bleed with the moon is to remember that we are part of something bigger, a rhythm much older than us.
For me, the moon is a reminder of connection: to my body, to my mother, to all the women before me, and to the deep wisdom that lives within the feminine. And maybe, just maybe, my mother is visiting me through these moments — asking me to soften, to forgive, to see her fully, and to finally release what was never mine to hold.
So today, I honor this bleed. I honor my tears. I honor my mother, the woman she was beyond the role of "mother." And I honor the moon, for guiding me back into myself, back into love, and back into release.
