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I am a crone

It’s official I am a crone. There are said to be 3 stages in a woman’s life. The maiden, the mother and the crone.

The maiden is a stage of innocence, exploration, playfulness and ends with pregnancy. 

The mother – as the names suggests is about nurturing, responsibility, surrender and compassion.  This stage ends with menopause. 

Then we have the crone and I say bring on her power. The crone is a time of sharing wisdom, mastery and empowerment. In folklore she may be seen as disagreeable and sinister.

I’m now 51 and slightly over being nice to keep the peace.  I am not a screamer or yeller (except before the Dinner Group last December) and being a middle child, I also tend to conform. But man am I tired of that shit and I am not going to take it anymore. The song “We’re Not Going To Take It” by Twisted Sister is playing in my head as I type away on my keyboard making me laugh. 

A couple of things have cropped up literally this morning and for once I haven’t taken it lying down and I have questioned the reason or challenged the conversation.  It might not work out but the adrenaline pumping through my veins is exciting and exhilarating, all be it a little nerve wracking.

 I like this me. 

This blog is for those of you out there who don’t want to take it anymore but continue to do so. What are we afraid of deep down – for me it is fear of rejection and of not being loved?  But I am loved.  I have an amazing husband, 2 wonderful tamariki and a niece that I adore as if she were one of my own.  I have amazing friends, so why do I worry about the opinions of a few that really don’t matter. If they don’t get me and love me now then they never will so why should I persevere? Isn’t that the definition of insanity – to keep doing the same thing over and over again and expect a different result.

Only you can be you, so I say be the best version of you and let those who don’t get you, gently fall by the wayside which sounds so loving and mothering, so if now I’m the crone I think I’ll sweep them aside with my broom.

Aroha nui


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Kim Spencer-McDonald

Accidental Feminist

Sometimes ideas, words and blog stories are nowhere to be found and on other days, like this morning they are literally screaming in my head to get out.

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