Blame-Anger-Violence, Shame-Guilt-Failure, Story

Neglect of Feminine Energy in Boys Creates Post Traumatic Stress Disorder

At-Risk Boys need attention from women and men to foster creativity

Kai was a childless mother. After multiple miscarriages, she decided that she would stop seeking to bring a child into reality with her body as there were plenty children on the earth who needed love who were unable to receive it. She knew she was called to the ordinance of resonating feminine love as boys flocked to her during dream time, begging for her attention.

One day she learned that twelve at-risk boys had been turned away from a school field trip to a museum of science because they were considered a nuisance. The boys were known to ask too many questions, interrupt when being spoken to, and had a propulsion for running away when permission was not granted. They were defined as mountains of ADHD piled upon mountains of ADHD as if mania or hyperactivity was not sufficient enough to define a disconnect of human need.

Kai saw these boys as lacking one thing. They did not lack money. They did not lack time. They did not lack options. The at-risk boys lacked love from the feminine energy that exists within the father, the mother, society, government, schools, and humanity at large. The feminine energy is the key creator of joy, ideas, creativity, fun, and wonder. These boys wanted to celebrate their lives while the masculine of society, social shaming, and inherited dramas stopped the creativity, fun, and wonder from expanding. The boys had become captured by toxic masculinity without a realization that they were on a one-way ticket ride to anger, violence, and rage.

Rather than have these boys suffer without creativity, joy, and a sense of wonder of life, she offered to take these at-risk ten-year-old boys on a field trip that would re-design their present and future. In order to satisfy the school management, parents, and social decorum, she encouraged application of three adult males who were once considered at-risk and incorrigible who were now working, productive, eligible bachelors to be equal mentors to the boys so that she could mentor the young boys with kindness, respect, and credibility.

The boys all held numbers in their hands, tickets of past reference to fights, juvenile detention, and emotional outbursts defined by lack, lack of being heard, lack of being valued, and lack of the feminine energy to create what had once been encoded into their DNA template and past life time realities.

Kai told the boys to stand in a line with their numbers based upon their own belief of pre-determined value of demerit. As the boys lined up with the boy in the front as “most likely to fail” or “most likely to be arrested,” she asked each boy to drop their number into a hat that she held in her hand. It was an ordinary Fedora hat one could buy at any outlet store, yet it was an unusually beautiful hat that a feminine woman could hold this handsome, manly hat as if it was her child, and this act of holding the masculine with respect carried significance with these boys of insignificance.

As she gathered all the numbers, she told the boys to imagine the release of all negative self beliefs, negative mindsets, and future creations associated to the number. Each boy dropped their number into the hat one by one. “You are not a number but a creation of the masculine and the feminine. You are divine. Accept it.”

Some boys hid their tears from the words she spoke. They could not comprehend love let alone acceptance. Several boys turned aside, rubbing their tears into their sleeves. They did not want to show their vulnerability as vulnerability had attracted their numbers of demerit, as they understood it.

Finally, all the numbers were in the Fedora hat. Kai set the Fedora hat on the concrete floor, lit the numbers with cigarette lighter, and the numbers and hat burned to nothing in a matter of minutes. “You are freed from judgment. I love you. I am mother. I am father. I am the Divine Feminine.” Several boys cried openly.

As they stood as equals in an indistinct school lined with lockers in the hallway, Kai offered a great adventure to the boys. “Today you shall create a lifelong friendship with each other. You will create a bond that lasts throughout elementary school, junior high, and high school.” Kai gestured a high-five with her right hand towards each boy who responded with eagerness to receive the initiation into divine love. With a final high five gesture to the three adult male leaders who were once labeled at-risk now labeled drug addicts, they were ready to experience a new reality of creation.

The group of boys, mentors, and Kai walked into an indoor gym with a large rectangle swimming pool, a slackline made of ratchet strap connected from one side of the pool to the other for crossing the shorter distance of the pool, and a rope above the slackline to help balance the whole body upon crossing. “Swim. Cross the slackline. Sit on the side. Do as you wish,” said Kai. All possibilities were open.

As the boys swam in the large pool, the water became dirty, mucky, and even foul like a toilet bowl that had backed up into a bathtub. “The pool is cleansing your light body. You are safe. You are dropping your inherited imprints from your father, your mother, and society,” said Kai. “Please, feel safe to swim, cross the slackline, jump, flip, and be as you want to be.”

No one had ever given these at-risk boys permission to be boys. No one had allowed creativity in abundance.

This was a foreign language. This was a foreign frequency. This was a foreign concept that caused many boys and mentors to question Kai’s intention. “Are you evil,” asked one boy?

“Are you a grand manipulator,” asked another?

Kai, who had longed to mother boys to heal the planet, said, “I am not anything but a being of love. Accept my love. Reject my love. I am not offended. Look within yourself and ask, Will my dream create options of joy or will my dream create suicidal ideation?”

As Kai spoke these words, one of the twenty-something mentors vomited onto the ground. She opened a bag and said, “Vomit into this, then burn it. You will feel better.” The young man did as requested. As the pile of vomit, ancestral beliefs, and foul smell burned to ashes, he saw an addiction to pain relievers descend into nothing. He saw the beliefs that he could not be anyone or be anything descend into nothingness. His chains of enslavement were returned to the false gods of pain.

One by one the boys exited the pool as they were finished swimming, diving, and jumping off the slackline as it was time to go home. “What will we do when you are gone? My mother does not love me the way you love me,” said one boy.

“My father is cruel,” said another boy.

“You will always find me in the dream time,” said Kai. “Just ask to be connected to divine love and I will appear. I will grant your fondest wishes and joy.”

“I want you with me all the time,” said another boy.

“I am with you. The feminine energy is creativity, abundance, an opportunity. See yourself as poor, you are lacking me. See yourself as creative and adventurous, you have me with you. You become me, and I become you.”

“I’m not a girl,” said one boy, afraid of the word.

“Feminine is simply a word for creation. Masculine is a word for taking the creation into action. You are both,” said Kai.

“You mean, it’s okay to paint my fingernails and still be attracted to girls,” said one boy.

“Yes,” said Kai. “You are being creative. I encourage fun. I encourage celebration. That is who I am. That is who YOU are.”

All the boys jumped up and down, raising theirs arms and fists into the air, shouting words of exclamation. They had never felt so free. They had never understood that they are both energies in one body. They felt free.

And this is the story how Neglect of Feminine Energy in Boys Creates Post Traumatic Stress Disorder to transform into creativity and joy with celebration of the Feminine.

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About Deborah Bravandt

Deborah Bravandt is a Neuro Linguistic Programmer, Codes of AH™ Practitioner, shaman, healer, sage, and founder of Divine Love Blueprint.

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