The mother with tattoos
At Matosinhos beach I saw a mother, poised and tattooed like scripture. Her thong flashed. She was the me I stopped becoming.
Sovereignty is the outcome of placement as practice. It is a state of ease and grace — power without force. It is regulation and instruction through signal. When you move through the world, people feel you before you speak. Rooms shift. Paths open. You embody leadership. Others align to your signal.
At Matosinhos beach I saw a mother, poised and tattooed like scripture. Her thong flashed. She was the me I stopped becoming.
These five daily rituals restore dignity, sensuality, and presence to the process of aging. Power doesn’t fade.
Part one of a three-part series on placement. This post gives the lived context and the standard that makes everything work.
I didn’t declare myself mother to another daughter. I became her mother the moment I stopped tracking her as “other.”
I travelled alone this trip. I was marrying him this year and needed this trip for myself. I ate Kimchi jjigae on Garosu-gil and restored what I never should’ve lost.
I don’t fuck because I should. I fuck because I want to. I don’t receive him as a chore. I receive him because I claim him.
Some bonds don’t begin when bodies meet. They complete what placement already started.
A music teacher held a hall of children without shouting or force. True feminine power signals and places. It doesn’t ask.
Your wetness isn’t seduction. It’s sovereignty. It’s your body saying: “I’m clear. I’m open. I trust my instinct."
Maintenance isn’t romance. It’s placement. I don’t clear him because I owe him. I clear him because I built this house. And I keep it flowing.