Sacred Not Submissive

 

Sacred Not Submissive

To walk the Left-Hand Path as a woman is to reclaim what the world has tried to take from your body, your voice, your worth. Satanic feminism, in its theistic form, is not just rebellion. It is a revelation. It is standing before the infernal altar with your head held high, naming yourself sacred in a world that tried to make you small.

To be a Satanic woman is to understand that no one has the right to define you. No one has the power to reduce you to an ornament or object. You are not here to be consumed. You are not here to be silent. You are not here to serve unless you choose to do so of your own free will.

Whether you call yourself Satanic Nun, Daughter of Lilith, Dark Priestess, or Witch of the Flame, you are not claiming a label for attention. You are claiming your sovereignty. You are crowning yourself.

When a woman dedicates herself as a Satanic Nun, she does not become less sexual or more submissive unless that is her own chosen vow. She becomes a vessel of fire, a voice of truth, a handmaiden of no god but the one who burns inside her. She may dress in black veils or red silk. She may live cloistered in ritual, or walk among the world with her power hidden in plain sight. Her vows are not to hierarchy, but to liberation. Her obedience is not to man, but to the spirit she serves—be it Satan, Lilith, Babalon, or her own higher self. It is a sacred marriage, not one of subservience, but of unity with the adversarial current.

Satanic feminism understands the sacredness of rage, of lust, of self-possession. It teaches that you can be both virgin and whore, both mother and destroyer, both temple and flame. It invites you to light candles with your blood, speak invocations with your full voice, and offer yourself—not in sacrifice, but in sovereignty.

When the world tries to objectify you, when it tries to reduce you to something to be gawked at or used, remember: you are not here to be palatable. You are not decoration. You are divinity. Your power is not in how others see you, but in how you see yourself. You are not someone else’s possession. You are your own altar.

Never allow anyone to treat you as less. Not lovers. Not teachers. Not spirits. Not even other witches. If they cannot see your fire, let them be blinded by it. You were not born to shrink. You were born to rise.

You are not here to be beautiful for them. You are here to be terrible and sacred in your own eyes. Whether you swear yourself to the Dark Mother, walk beside the Morning Star, or wear no name but your own, know this: your worth is not given. It is declared.

You are not less. You are not small. You are not meant to be silent.

You are dangerous. And you are divine.