Hey Roses! We are setting up our community over on Facebook in a private group. No worries! I’ll send you the link when it’s ready! Pm if you have any questions. 🌹

A journal prompt for your Dear hearts. What are you growing towards and how can you extend grace to your own becoming?

For the woman who’s been stretched too thin. For the mother who needs her roots back. For the sacred one who gives and gives—now it’s time to receive. Hold a piece of Red Jasper. Or step outside barefoot. Lean against a tree. Kneel in your garden. Let the Earth hold you. Let her remind you: you are never alone. Now speak this aloud: **“I call back my energy. I call back my power. I root myself in the truth of who I am. Red Jasper, ground me. Tree spirits, root me. Garden soil, hold me. Let me rise from the soil of my own strength. No more leaking. No more pleasing. I am not a martyr. I am not a machine. I am a mother, a miracle, a movement. And I matter.”** This is your re-rooting. This is your homecoming. This is the Earth remembering you. —The Rebel Roses

I Could’ve Been Gone by Goddess T. Marie I could’ve been gone. And not just buried. I mean gone gone. I could’ve been with lovers, getting flewed out, on shopping sprees, eating strawberries on balconies in far away places letting some man pay my rent for a smile. Oh, don’t play— I’ve seen the sugar daddy content. I could do it. But I didn’t. I could’ve been gone mentally. Could’ve taken the powder they offered. Numbed out. Doped out. Stoned out of my damn mind and no one would have blamed me. But I chose to stay. I chose to be present. I chose to be a conscious parent even when the dreamer in me was begging to run. I’m standing here. And I’ll keep standing. I’m digging my roots deep— deep into this earth, into this body, into this sacred role as the mother tree. The one who only lives to give Back to the fruit that came from her. Cyclically. Over. And over. And over. But catch this fire: I’m taking care of me. Because I’m the damn tree. And what happens when the tree dies? Exactly. So if you ever try to call a mother selfish for saving her own life— Don’t. I’m not dramatic. I’m just done dying quietly. And this? This is my gospel from the flames