Creator,
You, who wove me in secret,
with flesh and bone, longing, light and mystery,
touch with light the places in me that have been wounded, hidden, judged.
Heal my body of shame.
Heal my mind of guilt.
Heal my heart of the fear of being desired.
And my soul of the fear of desiring.
I call for you, living Creator,
in all the places where I was reduced to an object,
where I said “yes” when I wanted to say “no”,
where I locked myself inside out of fear, out of shame, out of pain.
Caress my skin with gentleness.
Cleanse my memory with the holy water of life .
Open me to life, not to fear.
Make my breasts fountains of joy, not of burden.
I give you back the labels placed on my pleasure.
I give you back the weight of the words that taught me
that being a woman is shameful,
that desire is dirty,
that the body must be controlled, hidden, punished.
I want to be free, Lord,
but I want a holy, deep freedom,
rooted in the divine.
Not freedom as escape, but as return.
Not freedom as rebellion, but as wholeness.
Make me a temple, not an idol.
Make me loved, not used.
Make me a whole woman, not divided between shame and dream.
And when I am touched by true love,
help me to remain open.
Not to close.
Not to run.
Not to sabotage.
But to remain.
To receive.
To rejoice.
To sanctify through presence,
through body,
through offering.
Amen.
