Dear Matriarchs and Matriarchs in the Making,

There’s a kind of alchemy that lives in every woman who has ever had to hold both her grief and her grace at the same time. It’s what I call transmutation — the ancient and ever-new art of turning our pain into power.

Transmutation isn’t about denying what hurts. It’s about honoring it. It’s about letting our experiences — even the ones that left us trembling — become medicine that strengthens us and clarifies who we are and what we stand for.

One of the most powerful ways to begin this process is through boundaries.

I want to give a nod of deep appreciation to Nedra Glover Tawwab, whose work on boundaries has helped so many of us remember that boundaries aren’t punishments or walls — they are acts of love. Love for ourselves, love for our relationships, and love for the possibility of healthy connection.

A practice I often invite women to try is to organize your life around your advocates — the people who truly see you, honor your growth, and celebrate your presence. You might imagine yourself at the center of a series of concentric circles. Closest to you are those who walk beside you with honesty and reciprocity. Farther out are those who, for now, may not have the capacity to meet you where you are. No shame, no blame — just clarity and care.

Another transformative practice is naming what you don’t want.

Start by writing a list of all the things you no longer wish to hold — in your life, your relationships, or your daily patterns. On the other side of the page, write the opposite of each statement.

For example:

“I don’t want toxic people in my life” becomes “I invite people who take responsibility for their own energy and well-being.”

This shift in language — from rejection to invitation — changes everything. It opens space for creation instead of reaction.

And if it feels hard to name what you do want right away, that’s okay. Start where you are. Sometimes writing what you don’t want is enough for now. Let yourself rest there with compassion.

I know this path personally. For a long time, my boundaries were like steel walls — tall, thick, and absolute. They kept me safe when I needed safety. But they also kept me isolated. I remember when a wise therapist once said, “You know boundaries can be permeable, right?” It took years for me to understand that concept — that our words, our clarity, our truth can become our boundaries. That’s when everything shifted.

Now, when I speak my truth with clarity and care, I don’t need walls. My voice is enough.

If you feel called, you might bring ritual into this practice — burn or bury the list of what you no longer want, whisper it to the ocean, or release it to the wind. Do it in a way that honors your lineage and feels sacred to you.

Transmutation isn’t a single act — it’s a lifelong practice of reclaiming our wholeness. It’s how we, as Modern Matriarchs, turn pain into purpose, confusion into clarity, and boundaries into bridges.

With warmth, reverence, and solidarity,

Maija