Honoring the Divine Masculine Within Me: A Father’s Day Transmission from a Single Mother

As I take a conscious moment to wish the many beautiful, self-aware, and compassionate divine masculines a very Happy Father’s Day, I also want to pause. To breathe. To remember. To honor the ones who are rarely spoken about on this day—the women who walked through fire, not just to mother, but to father in the deepest, most spiritual sense.

The single mothers. The soul-carriers. The ones who became the Divine Father while still embodying the Divine Mother.

Because for years, I didn’t just nurture from the wellspring of the feminine. I had to forge structure, safety, and stillness from the sacred fire of the masculine. Not in theory, but indaily practice.

When there was no one else to provide—I provided. When safety was a distant dream—I became the protector. When life demanded both tenderness and toughness—I held both, in balance. When I could have collapsed—I stood, silently, and built.

This was not a role I chose. This was a soul initiation I was born for. Not just for my children—but for the lineage that lives within me.

The masculine wasn’t a distant archetype. It became amantle I had to carry. An energy I had toheal, activate, and recalibrate. A sacred framework I had to embody to survive a world that so often praises strength in men, but demands it in women without acknowledgment.

And still—I rose. Not because I knew how. But because my soul remembered.

There was no guidebook. No shoulder to lean on. No applause or validation. I had no language for the initiation I was enduring—but I was walking straight into divine union with self.

Because divine union with self doesn’t always look like romance, partnership, or bliss. Sometimes, it’s forged in the grit of survival. In the quiet decisions no one sees. In the hands that build when they’re shaking. In the prayers whispered through exhaustion. In the choosing to stay, again and again.

And when the Divine called me forth—I answered.

God saw me. The Mother-Father Creator held me in every moment I held it all together. And even when I didn’t think I could keep going, something in me rose—not from willpower, but fromsoul power.

I didn’t just survive this journey. Itransfigured it.

I forged safety out of soul. I turned pain into purpose. I let the Divine Masculine within me rise—not to dominate, but tohold. Toprotect the sacred. Tobuild the container where my children could still know softness, innocence, and joy.

So yes, I extend blessings to the fathers—those doing the deep, conscious work of embodying integrity, presence, and soul. The men who are unlearning, remembering, showing up with open hearts and steady hands. This world needs you. I honor you.

But I also honor the mothers who became both.

The ones who transmuted abandonment into architecture. The ones who carried ancient blueprints in their wombs and didn’t even realize it until life demanded they activate them. The ones who became the Divine Fathernot out of desire, but because their children—and their own souls—deserved no less.

This wasn’t the path I planned to walk. But my soul had already mapped it. And today, I bow to the Divine Masculinewithin me—the builder, the guardian, the silent protector, the sacred fire that remembered exactly what to do when no one else could.

To the fathers. To the mothers who became both. To the Divine Masculine rising in all of us—may we remember: The true essence of the Divine Father is not gendered. It is energetic. It issacred. And it lives in the one who chooses to stay, to hold, to build, to love—with devotion, with integrity, and with soul.