What if the unhappiness so many women quietly carry isn’t personal failure at all—but the result of a system that taught them to become someone they are not?
For millennia, she was told to mistrust her own body.
Her intuition was called irrational, her sensuality was branded dangerous, her wisdom dismissed as hysteria.
Each age added another layer of disguise:
Carl Jung observed that when the feminine principle is repressed in a culture, it does not vanish—it returns in shadow.
What was once the oracle becomes the “over-emotional woman.”
What was once the temple becomes the “burden of the body.”
What was once sacred eros becomes either commodity or shame.
And so, under this programming, she learns to perform strength by severing from her softness.
Society whispers: fight, compete, outperform the masculine.
And yet in obeying, she loses touch with her own essence. She hardens. She aches.
She becomes a counterfeit of her soul’s truth.
This post is about that counterfeit.
About how the sacred feminine was programmed to reject her own temple.
About how the masculine was distorted into threat instead of mirror.
And about how, when these false codes are broken, a deeper union can be remembered—one that restores both her essence and his backbone.
So without wasting time, let’s dive in.
Before the Counterfeit, There Was Memory
Long before this programming, legend says,the feminine knew another way.
In ancient Sumer (c. 3000 BCE), the goddess Inanna did not rule by mimicking the masculine—she reigned by embodying the full power of the sacred feminine.
Her sovereignty did not require her to abandon love.
Her throne was not built on resistance to the masculine, but on her union with it.
When she chose Dumuzi, it was not for power, status, or transaction.
It was because he could meet her where few men can—in devotion, in presence, in the sacred erotic.
Their love was no competition.
It was divine reciprocity.
A dance that revealed what happens when the feminine rests in her temple
and the masculine meets her there without flinching.
Carl Jung wrote that “in the anima lies the bridge to the eternal.” Inanna’s myth reflects this: the feminine was not a rival, but the bridge through which man touches his soul.
This memory is what today’s spiritual matrix seeks to bury.
For every culture that honored the feminine as axis of life, another system rose to reprogram her essence into shadow.
How the Counterfeit Was Born
If Inanna’s temple preserved the memory of union, then history reveals how slowly that temple was dismantled.
The feminine did not forget her essence willingly—it was buried under layers of survival, law, and fear.
When humanity moved from tribal kinship into agricultural empires, power centralized. Land, harvest, and inheritance had to be secured, and with them, the womb.
What had once been celebrated as the mystery of life became property to control.
This was the first great programming of the feminine: the inversion of her role from cosmic axis to domestic servant.
The Axial Age brought powerful new religions, but with them came another turn of the screw.
The feminine, once embodied as Inanna or Isis, was split into irreconcilable fragments: the Virgin and the Whore, the saint and the temptress.
Each myth encoded suspicion toward the feminine body and its desires.
If empire controlled her womb and religion controlled her desire, industry sought to control her labor. Both man and woman were pressed into the machine of productivity.
The body was no longer mystery or temple, but machine.
The 20th century brought vital liberation: suffrage, education, legal rights. Yet the deeper programming remained. Equality was translated into sameness: to be valued, she must fight, hustle, compete on masculine terms.
Thus the feminine, already fractured, hardened further.
Not because she despised men, but because she was taught survival lay in rivalry.
The cost? A psyche at war with itself.
Her softness seen as weakness.
Her intuition mistrusted.
Her erotic power commodified or suppressed.
And yet, beneath this counterfeit, the deeper memory still stirs.
What She Secretly Craves
Beneath the surface battles, beneath the programming, the feminine carries a memory older than empire.
No matter how many layers of religion, industry, or modern ideology are placed upon her, the archetype refuses to die. It waits, hidden, in dreams, in desires, in the quiet ache of her body.
She longs to be met by a masculine so rooted, so present, that his very being penetrates her mind, body, and soul—without force, without demand.
She yearns to be ravished without being dominated.(Read:Psychic Sex & Soul Containment: Initiation into the Sacred Erotic Bond)
To be opened without being used.
To be witnessed in her storm by a man who does not flinch,because he no longer needs to conquer.
Carl Jung called this hidden pull the anima–animus dance: the unconscious longing of each sex for the wholeness of the other. When distorted, it produces conflict—she sees in men the tyrant or the weakling. But when healed, it awakens what Jung named the coniunctio oppositorum: the sacred union of opposites.
This is why modern women often feel the split so painfully. On one hand, they have achieved what previous centuries denied—education, careers, independence.
Yet at night, in their dreams, something deeper presses through: visions of being truly seen, truly held, truly opened. This is not regression but remembrance.
The lies of the counterfeit still whisper: that love is transactional, that polarity is outdated, that eros is shame. Yet these are only matrix illusions.
Such a man cannot be faked.
He must have depth.
He must have died to ego and risen in soul.
When she meets this presence, something ancient stirs.
Her own temple remembers.
And she begins to awaken to the truth of who she is.
Why This Changes Everything
When the masculine reclaims his spiritual backbone, everything shifts.
He no longer seeks to convince, control, or chase.
He no longer projects his own insecurity as dominance or his own fear as withdrawal.
He becomes a living altar—
still, unwavering, radiant in soul.
And when he stands as altar, she does not kneel from submission.
She bows from recognition.
This recognition is ancient. In Egypt, Isis did not conquer Osiris. She resurrected him—not through domination, but through love, magic, and sacred erotic remembrance.
Here we glimpse what Jung called the hieros gamos I touched on above—the sacred marriage within the psyche.
It is not a mere romance, but the integration of the inner masculine and feminine, mirrored through outer union.
Psychologically, this changes everything.
This is why true polarity cannot be reduced to strategy or “dating hacks.” It is not performance—it is essence.
It is why hypergamy is not about status or money, but about how deeply a man embodies presence.(For more on this Read:Hypergamy Is Not What You Think: Why She Chooses the Man She Feels)
The myth still speaks:
When the masculine stands in soul,
and the feminine returns to her temple,
they find each other again in the Garden.
Not the garden of religious shame.
But the garden of primordial memory.
The place before the counterfeit.
Before the programming.
Before the war.
Here, they do not discover something new.
They remember what they have always been.
In Closing
A woman’s unhappiness today is often not the absence of success, attention, or freedom.
It is the ache of being severed from her essence.
Across history she has worn masks not of her own choosing:
Each mask was survival, but each mask was also counterfeit.
Carl Jung warned that “what is not brought to consciousness comes as fate.”
The feminine psyche, forced into shadow, reemerges as anxiety, restlessness, longing.
Her unhappiness is not weakness. It is a signal. A deep memory pressing through.
And that essence does not bloom in competition.
It blossoms in sacred polarity—
in the place where the masculine and feminine remember each other not as enemies, but as mirrors of soul.
When a man meets her there—
in soul instead of strategy,
in witnessing instead of wanting—
something ancient stirs.
She remembers.
Not just him.
But herself.
The true masculine does not conquer her.
He calls her home.
And in answering, she calls him home too.
This is not nostalgia for the past. It is the return of a primordial memory—
the Garden before the counterfeit.
The union before the war.
The place where eros, soul, and devotion weave together as one.
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where I reveal the practices and transmissions that awaken sacred polarity and reconnect masculine and feminine at soul level.
Till next time,
Your Friend,
Tomas
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