Okay... about Friday the 13th… We were told it was unlucky. Suspicious. A day to be feared. Black cats, broken mirrors, bad omens. Before the superstition, before the fear, Friday the 13th was sacred. The number 13 shows up everywhere in feminine cycles. 13 lunar months in a year. 13 bleeding cycles in many bodies. A number deeply tied to the moon, to rhythm, to intuition, to life. And Friday was the day of the Goddess. Named for Freya in Norse myth - the goddess of sex, love, war, beauty, death, and magic. The one who made softness powerful and rage holy. Other cultures honoured Venus. The Divine Feminine. This was a day of devotion. Of gathering in circles and remembering we were never meant to live on straight lines. Well… then patriarchy happened. Somewhere along the way, anything cyclical, embodied, or woman-aligned became “dangerous.” 13 was cursed. Bleeding became shameful. Witches became threats. Wisdom that lived in the body not the book became deeply suspect. And so the spiral was replaced with a ladder. A race. A calendar. A pressure to perform. But here’s the thing. We remember. Our bodies remember. The rhythm never left. So now, when Friday the 13th shows up… I don’t shrink. I reclaim it. As a day to honour everything the old world tried to erase: My wildness. My intuition. My timing. It doesn’t matter if you follow the moon. It doesn’t matter what body you’re in. You have permission to believe your body. And if you want to do that in community… I made one. It’s called Feel Good Rebel Academy. It’s about remembering you were always powerful - even when the world told you otherwise. ✨ Join the Academy:
