A Woman Who is Fed, is A Woman Who Remembers

Every time the world feels unstable, women are quietly told to shrink.

When the economy falters, when uncertainty rises, when systems begin to crack - there’s a pattern that emerges like clockwork: the return of extreme thinness. The rise of hyper-discipline. The flood of content reminding us that the ideal woman is effortless, small, unbothered, and above all, contained.

But this isn’t just a beauty trend.

It’s a control tactic.

It’s cultural anesthesia dressed in wellness language.

We are being asked to spend our precious time, energy, and resources—Counting calories.

Shrinking our meals.

Perfecting our bodies.

Chasing “clean” and “disciplined” while the world quietly burns behind the screen.

And when women are busy trying to perfect themselves, they are too tired to fight back.

Too tired to notice who benefits from their exhaustion.

Too distracted to rise in resistance.

Too depleted to organize, create, or lead.

This isn’t new.

During the Great Depression, the flapper body reigned.

In the 2008 crash, heroin chic quietly slinked back onto the runway.

Now, as economic and environmental instability loom again, we are watching the cultural pendulum swing away from softness, curves, and inclusivity—toward thinness rebranded as “discipline,” “clean living,” and “that girl energy.”

It’s not coincidence.

It’s conditioning.

Your hunger is not the problem.

Your softness is not the threat.

Your tiredness is not a flaw - it’s a symptom of systems designed to wear you down.

But you, dear one, were not made to starve.

You were made to feel.

To feast.

To rise.

Let’s refuse to shrink.

Let’s take back the energy we’ve been taught to pour into food fear, body hate, and shame.

Let’s feed ourselves deeply—nutritionally, emotionally, spiritually.

Because a woman who is fed is a woman who remembers.

And a woman who remembers is a woman who cannot be controlled.

But here’s the thing no one tells you:

Feeding yourself is a radical act.

Choosing pleasure is a reclamation.

Letting yourself take up space—physically, emotionally, spiritually—is resistance.

I’ve seen it in women who show up to Circle still recovering from a lifetime of shrinking.

Women who say “I wore a bikini for the first time in 15 years and didn’t suck in my stomach.

”Women who say “I let myself eat lunch before I finished the laundry, and no one died.”Women who cook for themselves with herbs and intention—not to control their bodies, but to honor them.

Women who sit at the table and eat slowly. Luxuriously. Without apology.

These aren’t small moments.

They are sacred ruptures in the systems that want us starved, self-doubting, and distracted.

Every time a woman says,“I fed myself fully today.”

“I didn’t punish myself for being hungry.”

“I wore the thing that made me feel alive…”…she’s pulling herself out of the trance.

She’s saying:

My softness is not a weakness.

My appetite is not dangerous.

My aliveness is not a liability.

It is my power.

Let this be the season you stop apologizing for needing rest.

Let this be the month you eat with reverence.

Let this be the year you wear the damn bikini.

Let this be your quiet revolution.

You don’t owe anyone smallness.

You never did.