How the Feminine Wrecks Me…..

…..and Why I Keep Coming Back for More

FACT: I resonate deeply with women and their feminine energy.

Not in some pickup-artist, weird sort of way. I’m talking about something far more dangerous and far more sacred, namely, the type of feminine energy that humbles you, exposes you, wrecks you, and then invites you back in for another round of delicious masculine annihilation.

Lao Tzu tried to warn us. Chapter Six of the Tao Te Ching practically gives the blueprint:

“The spirit of the valley never dies.

It is called the mysterious female.

The gateway of the mysterious female

is the root of heaven and earth.”

The valley spirit. The mysterious female. That infinite void.

Men like me have spent lifetimes trying to fill it, conquer it, analyze it. But that’s not how the void works. The void doesn’t need you. The void doesn’t chase. The void simply is. And if you’re lucky, you get invited to step inside and lose yourself.

When I was younger, I tried to control it. I thought if I said the right things, if I played the game right, I could master the dance with women. Be smooth. Be clever. Be “the man.”

But the Tao laughs at that nonsense.

The deeper truth is that when I surrender, when I stop performing, when I stop treating the dance like a transaction, that’s when the gates of the mysterious female open. And not a second before.

The feminine energy I crave isn’t about the surface. It’s not the filtered selfie or the curated profile. It’s the woman who can look me in the eye, strip away my armor with one breath, and pull me into that dark, fertile unknown where words dissolve.

You want to see the feminine in action? Look at Xi Wangmu, Queen Mother of the West, the ancient Taoist bad-ass. She wasn’t some fragile flower waiting for a hero. She was the mountain. She was the mystery.

Immortality, transformation, and cosmic sovereignty all rested in her hands. Men came to her not for conquest but for initiation.

Or take Magu, the immortal hemp maiden who flowed through time like a cosmic trickster, eternally youthful yet ancient beyond comprehension. She laughs at us men thinking we’ve got it figured out. She is the embodiment of what terrifies and seduces us - a feminine mystery we cannot solve.

The reason I love dancing with feminine energy is because I’ll never master it. That’s the entire point.

It exposes the masculine lie we’re sold: that we’re supposed to know, to fix, to win. That we are supposed to “lead.” But the Tao whispers to us that our only job is to follow. Sometimes our job is to hold space, to witness, to be shattered and rebuilt in her presence.

I’ve had women who brought me to my knees not by force, but by simply being so fully themselves that my ego had no place to hide. And in those moments, I’ve glimpsed the following truth:

The infinite void isn’t something to be feared. It’s the birthplace of everything.

The Tao is not neutral. It is not indifferent. It is feminine at its core, endlessly generating, endlessly receiving. She allows me to lean in just enough to feel alive but not so far as to think I own the moment.

And that, my brothers, is the real game:

Surrendering to the mystery and never mistaking surrender for weakness. When you do, you don’t lose your masculinity, you finally find it.

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