In the last few days, my pelvis has been calling me.
Insistent. Whispering.
Asking to soften, release, breathe.

And with it, the old “good girl” pattern surfaced again.
Be nice.
Be polite.
Don’t get angry.
Don’t ask for too much.
Don’t want too much.
Carry everyone and everything…
(choose and add your own)

So I sat down to breathe.

Breath, pelvis and returning home

At first, I simply breathed.
A deep inhale into the belly… then into the chest… and a long exhale through the mouth.
Ritual drumming in my ears.
And slowly, gently, my body began to sway. I touched my pelvis as if meeting it again for the first time—bones, muscles, ligaments. Space.

I sat on my hands.
I wanted to feel her.
To hold her.
To carry her.

And that’s when my active imagination began.

I called the puma to guard my boundaries.
The eagle to watch from above.
The ray to keep the life-force flowing.
My ancestors, the shamankas and shamans around the fire.

We were all there together.
And I said:

“What wants to be seen — come.
I want to hear you, feel you, witness you.
Whatever needs to be lived — show yourself.”

And then I heard a woman’s voice from my pelvis.
Filled with fear.

I’m scared.

“What are you scared of?”

“I’m scared that if I speak… if you hear me… you will die.”

I knew exactly what to say:

“If that’s what it means, then so be it.
I have died many times before.
And I have been reborn.
And now… I want to hear you.”

What lives in the pelvis (and what does not belong to us)

Suddenly, I saw where she lived.
A narrow stone chamber.
Cramped, dark, cluttered with things that weren’t hers.
Old fears, inherited beliefs, other people’s emotions.

I told her:

“This is not yours.
You are not meant to carry this.
How could you feel good here?
How could you dance if you cannot move?”

And I showed her the fire.
A fire I’ve fed with old stories and outdated beliefs for years.
They’ve been turning into warmth and light.

“Throw it all into the fire.
Let it transform.”

She brought bags filled with these burdens and emptied them into the flames.
Even the bags themselves.
Everything burned.

And the fire was beautiful.

When the flames settled, I said:

“Look at all the space you have now.
Let’s clean it.”

We swept it out.
Cleared it.
Softened it.

Then came the beauty.

Fabrics. Flowers. Decorations. Water. Candles.
The pelvis became a sanctuary.

She no longer resisted.
She was no longer afraid.
She could feel something new opening.
Breath, space, change.

“Speak to me,” I told her.
“If anything new lands here, just place it on a pile. We’ll throw it into the fire together.”

I thanked her.
Left her to enjoy her new home.

Inhale.
Exhale.
And I opened my eyes.

And I knew:

I no longer want to carry what isn’t mine.
I want to carry MYSELF.

What it looks like to carry YOURSELF

When a woman carries herself, you can feel it.
Not in her words — in her movement, the weight of her pelvis, the tone of her voice, the way she enters a room.

Carrying yourself means:

• knowing your boundaries and not crossing them for others
  
• knowing what you want — and saying it
  
• standing in your truth, even when it isn’t “nice”
  
• not absorbing emotions and responsibilities that aren’t yours
  
• allowing anger, desire, life-force
  
• being at home in your body, especially in the pelvis
  
• being able to lean on yourself
  
• choosing truth over fear

Carrying yourself isn’t a one-time event.
It’s a practice.
A return.
A daily choice.

Practical steps to live from your pelvis (and deepen self-love)

Here are simple practices you can weave into your days:

1. Breath into the pelvis

Deep belly inhales.
Long releases through the mouth.
Imagine the pelvis expanding like a bowl.

2. Gentle pelvic waves

Circles, figure-eights, slow movements in sitting or standing.
Five minutes is enough.

3. Touch

Sit on your hands.
Place your palms on your lower belly or cradle your hips.
Let your body know: “I’m here.”

4. Inner cleaning ritual

Imagine your pelvis as a room.
Clear it.
Throw everything that isn’t yours into the symbolic fire.

5. Journaling

Write down what you’re carrying for others.
And ask:
“Is this mine?”

6. Dropping energy from head to body

Bring your attention down — belly, pelvis, legs.
It anchors you into presence.

7. Boundary practice

Choose one sentence you’ll use when something is a “no.”
For example:
“This doesn’t work for me.”

8. Dance

Put on drums or any rhythm that moves you.
Pelvic movement awakens life-force like nothing else.

9. Warmth

Hot water bottle, warm bath, hot shower.
Heat melts old patterns and softens tightness.

10. Community

Share.
With women.
In spaces where bodies listen to bodies.

Closing

The pelvis is your root, your fire, your truth.
It is where fear lives — but also power, intuition, sexuality, creation.

When you clear it…
When you give it a home…
It gives you yourself back.

And suddenly, you know:

I don’t want to carry what isn’t mine.
I want to carry MYSELF.

With love,
Vladia