The Feminine Energy Ritual I Swear By (Even When It’s Just Lighting a Candle and Crying)

Let me just say this up front: if your idea of feminine energy is a perfectly lit bubble bath, white silk robe, crystals charged under the full moon, and your inner goddess fully activated… I love that for you. Truly. Go off.

But that’s not what this post is about.

This post is for the women who are emotionally exhausted, a little spiritually skeptical, and have about six minutes to themselves before the existential dread kicks in.

This post is for the ones who want to reconnect to themselves—but feel like they’ve tried every Pinterest ritual and still end up back on the couch eating cereal out of a coffee mug wondering what the hell they’re doing with their lives.

I see you.

Because I am you.

And I want to share the one feminine energy ritual I’ve kept coming back to. The one that doesn’t require fancy candles (though I love those), or an elaborate moon ceremony (though I’ve tried those too). The one that holds me when I’m falling apart and reminds me I’m still whole.

It’s simple. It’s imperfect. It’s very “crying in your pajamas while Taylor Swift plays in the background.”

But it works.

Let me walk you through it.

🌙 Step One: Create the Vibe (Even if It’s a Hot Mess)

Here’s what I used to think a feminine energy ritual should look like: clean space, incense, spiritual music, maybe a silky dress and fresh blowout.

Here’s what it actually looks like for me most days: I light a candle with mascara still smudged under my eyes. I’m in my baggiest hoodie. My living room is a disaster. My cat is silently judging me.

And that’s okay.

Feminine energy isn’t about perfection. It’s about presence.

So I light the damn candle anyway. Not to impress anyone. Not to look cute for Instagram. But to signal to myself: this moment matters.

That tiny flame? It’s my reminder that even when life feels dim, there’s still warmth here. Still softness. Still something sacred.

☕ Step Two: Ground With Something Sensory

This part isn’t fancy either.

Sometimes it’s tea. Sometimes it’s a warm mug of oat milk with honey. Sometimes it’s just wrapping myself in a blanket like a burrito and sitting in silence.

The point is to anchor into your body.

We live in our heads so much—overthinking, spiraling, planning, criticizing—that we forget to feel. Like actually feel.

Feminine energy lives in the body. It’s not in your to-do list. It’s in your breath. Your skin. Your senses.

So I take a sip. I slow down. I feel the warmth travel through my chest and I breathe, even if it’s shallow and tight.

No pressure to be “zen.” Just a moment of stillness in a world that never stops spinning.

✍️ Step Three: Journal Without a Filter

Some people do shadow work. Some people script affirmations. Me? I emotionally dump all over the page like it’s my therapist and I’m not paying by the hour.

I journal like this:

“I feel like I’m failing at everything.”
“I don’t know what I’m doing.”
“I’m tired of holding it all together.”

And then, somewhere between the fifth and fifteenth scribbled line, something cracks open.

Maybe it’s clarity. Maybe it’s just relief. But it always feels like a little breath of truth rises up through the mess.

That’s feminine energy: not cleaning up your feelings—but letting them flow without judgment.

Sometimes I finish with an affirmation. Sometimes not. Sometimes I just sit there, a little puffy-eyed but weirdly lighter, and whisper to myself, “You’re okay. You’re allowed to feel this.”

💧 Step Four: Let the Emotions Come (Yes, Even the Ugly Ones)

Here’s the part where I usually cry.

Not because I planned to. Not because I want to be dramatic. But because giving myself space to feel—without fixing or editing or performing—always unlocks something.

Feminine energy is fluid. Emotional. Sometimes irrational.
But it’s also wise. So wise.

And when I let the tears come, I’m not falling apart—I’m releasing. Releasing the pressure to be strong all the time. Releasing the tension I carry in my jaw. Releasing the story that I have to do everything alone.

Some days it’s a tear. Some days it’s a full-on snot cry. Either way, it’s sacred.

And afterward, I feel… soft. Not broken. Just soft.

🕊 Step Five: Receive

This part is subtle, but it’s everything.

After I’ve journaled, cried, breathed, lit my candle, and sat in the awkward quiet of my own feelings… I ask myself:

What do I need right now?
What wants to come through me, not from me?
What can I open to—rather than control?

Sometimes the answer is “go to bed.”
Sometimes it’s “text your friend and ask for support.”
Sometimes it’s “put on your favorite playlist and dance like a witchy weirdo.”

And sometimes… it’s nothing. Just a softening. A gentle awareness that I don’t have to chase healing, chase love, chase anything.

I can just be.

And in that being-ness… something beautiful always begins to stir.

That’s the receiving part. And it’s where the magic happens.

🌸 What Feminine Energy Looks Like (When It’s Not Instagram-Pretty)

This ritual—if you can even call it that—doesn’t look fancy.

There are no oils. No mood boards. No chanting (unless you count swearing into my journal as sacred sound healing).

But it brings me back to myself.

Feminine energy isn’t about aesthetic. It’s about authenticity.

It’s about tuning into what you actually need, not what a TikTok wellness influencer told you to do.

It’s about saying: – “I don’t have to be fixed to be whole.”
– “I’m allowed to feel without justifying it.”
– “My softness is not a liability. It’s my power.”

Even if your version of a ritual is just putting your phone on Do Not Disturb, lighting the grocery store candle that smells like vanilla trauma, and sitting with your feelings for seven minutes—that’s enough.

You are enough.

Final Thoughts: Let It Be Simple, Let It Be Yours

If you’re waiting for your life to slow down so you can finally “tap into your feminine energy,” let me lovingly say: it doesn’t work like that.

You don’t wait for the perfect mood. You create a moment, however small, that brings you home to yourself.

That’s it. That’s the ritual.

You don’t need a retreat or a velvet robe (though again, I support those). You just need a few quiet minutes, a little courage to feel what’s actually inside you, and a reminder that soft doesn’t mean broken.

So light the candle. Cry if you need to. Journal your chaos. Sip your tea.

Let this be sacred. Let it be messy. Let it be enough.

Feminine energy isn’t a performance—it’s a remembering.

And you, exactly as you are right now, are already her.