APRIL 12, 2025

ARTICLE BY MOTHER MAGE

she may be pink (not literally) but she ain’t no dainty little fairy floating through the sky with stardust. she’s a hitwoman in heels, pullin up with a knife and a velvet voice like, “you done with that yet? no? cool. i’ll do it for you.”

they’re referring to her as the pink full moon because she’s named after the blooming of pink wild flowers such as moss phlox.

in my opinion, her name is a bit misleading, because like i said, she ain’t asking for permission. she came to clean house. ties that have been dragging you down? cut. karmic loops? cut. half-ass friendships? cut. old versions of you that only knew how to perform for love? CUT TF OUT. and yeah, it hurts. cords don’t always feel good to sever. sometimes it’s a slow tear, sometimes it’s a fast burn. but either way, it ain’t punishment. it’s precision.

spirit knows what you’ve been too loyal to. what you been romanticizing outta trauma. what’s been clinging to your aura like emotional parasites. this moon came to end the subscription. vampires be gone.

under her light, everything that feels like love but drains like death gets exposed. if it ain’t mutual, it’s getting dropped. if it ain’t aligned, it’s getting rerouted. if it ain’t rooted in truth, it’s getting yanked out at the root.

luna doesn’t care how long you’ve known them.

she doesn’t care how good the sex is.

she doesn’t care what y’all could’ve been.

she’s asking “who/what are you now?”

SPEAKING FROM EXPERIENCE

over the past two weeks, i’ve been studying myself. not just in theory—in practice. through dreams, signs, triggers, silence. my altar has been overly active. my body has been noticeably stiff with resistance. my shadow? loud as hell. but beneath the chaos, something tender has been blooming. and that’s what this moon came to show me.

now i see…

ABANDONMENT WOUNDS AIN’T QUIET

they show up in how you wait for a text. how you feel like a burden. how you rehearse leaving before anybody can ghost you. spirit has been making me sit in it. not run. not cling. just sit. like, “look at it. let it rot or let it rise.” this moon? she said choose.

LOVE DOESN’T FEEL SAFE UNTIL YOU FEEL SAFE WITH SELF

i wanted closeness, but kept hiding. wanted to be seen, yet wore a mask. but the moon don’t play dress-up. she said take that shit off. ain’t nobody coming to save me, but my higher self been tryna get through customs for weeks. i finally let her land.

SENSUAL ENERGY IS A SURVIVAL TOOL

not for men. not for show. for me. i’ve been learning how to feel good in my body without apology. without rushing. without shape-shifting. by just. being. present. pleasure isn’t optional. it’s the portal.

THEY GET SCARED WHEN YOU KNOW WHO YOU ARE

especially when you ain’t performing. especially when you walk away instead of explaining. especially when you stop chasing and let your energy speak. this full moon been showing me that silence is sacred. stillness is sexy. boundaries are love.

I DON’T NEED TO BE UNDERSTOOD TO BE RESPECTED

not gonna lie, this one hit me in the chest. for too long, i’ve been explaining myself to the wrong people, hoping they’d give me permission to be. girl, fuck that. i am not an open wound for public consumption. let em misunderstand me. i’m not arguing with projections. that’s spiritual growth, not ego.

EVERY FANTASY COSTS SOMETHING

and i was running up my tab with illusions. the fantasy of being the “good one,” the “cool one,” the “unbothered one.” meanwhile, my inner child in the back like, “damn bitch, can we just feel something?” the moon made me look at the price of pretending.

YOU AREN’T TOO MUCH

some people’s arms are too shallow for deep love. that ain’t your fault. that ain’t your cue to shrink. you are not too emotional. you’re like the ocean; vast, elusive, and naturally have the ability to drown people who can’t swim. let em float… or choke. just make sure you’re being you. you’re not here to make yourself shallow too.

this ain’t a moon for glitter and gloss. this is a moon for getting your hands dirty in your own garden. it’s for pulling out the roots that ain’t yours, burning the masks, and laying bare the parts of you that still believe in love. even if it hurts.

me? i’m still learning. still shedding. still listening.

EVERY TEAR IS AN ANSWERED PRAYER

this pink moon energy got emotions running like a faucet and it don’t even take much. a song, a memory, somebody looking at you too long, and boom, tears. it ain’t just you. or me. we’ve all been on the verge collectively.

grief has been stacking up quietly, and now it’s leaking through the cracks, showing up in the middle of the day like, “you remember me?”

this full moon ain’t here to embarrass you, it’s here to free you.

let it pour.

the tears have assignments… they’re washing out the weight you were never meant to carry forever. cry easy, cry hard, just don’t hold it in. you’re healing whether you see it or not.

this moon came to show you that letting go isn’t loss. it’s liberation. cutting cords ain’t cruel. it’s sacred. it’s saying “i choose me. i love me more than the cycle.”

so, light a candle.

write the name.

cry the tears.

and let the moon do what she came to do.

sever ties with the shit you swore you couldn’t survive without, and life will show you that you still can.

HOW I COPE

personally, the moon hit my body first. tension in my shoulders. grief in my hips. my chest felt like a locked door. so i started moving like my healing depended on it.

i locked in with myself by:

♡ stretching with intention

♡ breathing through the tightness

♡ dressing like my altar. silk, skin, undone.

♡ breathing, screaming, and moaning when i felt it, not just sexually but spiritually. release is release.

every movement is a spell. every orgasm, a prayer. every time i let my body feel without shame? i return to my power.

under this pink full moon, i invite you to ask:

♡ what softness in you have you mistakened for weakness?

♡ where do you still betray yourself to belong?

♡ what part of you wants to bloom, but you keep refusing to water it out of fear?

♡ what ties are you keeping outta guilt or fantasy?

♡ what have your tears been trying to say that your mouth couldn’t?