Candice Baker Life Coach

Tag: Wild woman

  • The Scarlet Woman

    Model Candice Storm, Tog Tanya Borchers

    THE SCARLET WOMAN

    You’ve all seen her, or perhaps been her. The woman in the red dress, full red lips, hot red heels.

    It’s so strange how colour can be associated with implied behaviour. Or a certain style of clothing. And that is because as human beings we take mental short cuts. It’s too much trouble to relate to every woman on an individual level, so our brains take a mental short cut and stereotype people. So the woman dressed in red becomes the Scarlet Woman. The easy woman, the prostitute. Or the one dressed in leather, or the one in that mini skirt. The man in the pink shirt must be gay. You know what I mean.

    But here’s the truth. Certainly some women are wearing that red dress (or whatever) for attention. But many are not.
    Some are wearing it because it feels good to wear it. Because red is their colour, or because she feels the lines flatter her body.
    For many woman, dressing in red (or leather, or whatever) is not about you at all. It’s not about men at all.
    It’s about her reclaiming the right to feel good, or wild, or sassy in her own body. It does not make her available. Or if she’s married, it does not mean she is looking for somebody better.
    It means she is looking to better herself.
    (Or if she is married and looking for somebody better, caging her won’t change that)

    There are many reasons a woman might dress in an alluring manner. And most of them have little to do with anybody else.

    *She might be recaliming her sensuality. There are many times in a woman’s life where she might have lost herself along the way. Pregnancy. Motherhood. Your infidelity.
    Phases where she has not had the time or energy to take care of herself. And phases where she has felt an awakening of herself before all the responsibility robbed her of her time or will to feel beautiful.

    * She might have let herself go physically. Bodies come and go, there are periods of self- indulgence, or emotional eating followed by periods of getting her shit together at the gym. And the feeling of accomplishment deserves a celebration.

    *Mentally, periods of grief or loss might shift her focus away from her own health for a time. Depression can really suck everything beautiful out of your life, including your self esteem. And to rise from that and wear something that makes flher feel beautiful is to reclaim her true essence before the trauma ripped it to pieces.

    *Emotionally, she might have been struggling to get out of bed for so long that she forget how to put on her lipstick. Where the tears made her give up on wearing mascara. Times when she forgot how doing her hair and wearing something sassy could be good for her soul.

    *Perhaps she had a partner who tried to keep her small, who told her to fly under the radar or risk being left alone. A toxic relationship or an abusive marriage. And perhaps she began to see that a partner who tries to keep her small does not really have her best interests at heart. Only his own.

    A woman in a red dress (or whatever) does not mean she is searching for something outside of her marriage. Perhaps she is reconnecting with something inside of herself that she lost along the way. Perhaps she decided to ‘fake it till she makes it’ back to her former self. The one with confidence and a twinkle in her eye.

    A woman in a red dress (or whatever) does not mean she is ‘searching’ or ‘selling’. She is a woman who is embodying her inner goddess. One who is expressing herself without fear. One who is growing, rising within her own potential. And this has nothing to do with you, your husband, or even her own partner if she has one.
    Most of the time, it has everything to do with her rebirth.

    And if it is your partner in scarlet, give her the support she needs to grow and shine. As this is also a reflection of your love and light. Nobody wants to live in a cage. Everybody has the need to find their way back to themselves. To express themselves. Nobody does well in captivity. Your partner is far more likely to run away if you continue to cage her, than if you accept that all people deserve to be free. As a man, providing a safe space for her to grow in her power and personal expression is an embodiment of your divine masculine.

    There can be a lot of fear caused by underlying insecurity, which will surface when a woman starts looking after herself, and wearing that sexy dress. That is your projection of your own insecurities onto her, and not a prediction of her behaviour. Policing her wardrobe is not what will keep her faithful to you, and allowing her freedom in what she wears will not be the cause of her running off with somebody new.
    And if she does, it has nothing to do with her outfits and everything to do with the state of your relationship.
    Likewise, slut shaming a sexy lady is not going to stop your husband from lusting after her. Only he can do that.
    Women don’t need another cage. And if that baggy T-shirt is the only thing holding your relationship together, there are bigger problems to solve than what is in her draw.

    A man who understands she is not running away from him, but running towards herself, is a man who understands how to attract his mate, rather than trap her. And in this freedom of choice that you provide lies the power. For everyone. Let her choose you. And in turn, she allows you to choose her, in true freedom.

    There is no other way.

    I am a holistic life coach and wellness coach, with a special interest in relationships and woman empowerment.
    T/DR Candice Baker
    00013133614
    You can book a session with me on WhatsApp
    +0027833613255

  • Shedding My Skin

    Image by Marthinus Odendaal, model Candice Storm

    SHEDDING MY SKIN

    Let me tell you something about the ageing process. It humbles you.
    That kick ass body that you always took for granted is suddenly bulging over your low rise jeans.
    Your beautiful mane of hair is thinning and your butt is beginning to sag.
    The wrinkles come out of nowhere and your hormones go out of whack. Yes, it’s a shit show after 45.

    Or is it?
    This lifetime is a journey of becoming. Of personal growth, honing instincts and acquiring wisdom.

    I have always been in the modeling and entertainment industry, where there is a heavy emphasis on how you look. But slowly life has been changing me, forcing me to look inwards to discover beauty.

    It’s a process of shedding your skin. Some processes more painful than others.
    First it was the false nails, impossible to maintain in an aerial studio.
    And who needs them really?

    Then it was the big 4 Oh! And along came the panic about getting older and a solid 5 year Botox binge.
    Enter the fantastical filler flirtation, both temporary and unsustainable,
    I dropped that particular obsession by 45. Are we not just prolonging the inevitable, afterall?
    Don’t get me wrong, there were days where I stared in the mirror before a date and regretted my divorce from injectibles.
    But I stood firm in the belief that I have more to offer than my face.

    Photoshop was a fascinating distraction for a while, perfecting every tummy roll and blemish.
    And then realising it’s pretty toxic to present this fake version of perfection to the world. To set unrealistic standards for other women to loathe themselves by.
    And so I let that go too, deliberately posting images with the belly rolls and wrinkles, because let’s be real…we all have them.

    Then came the biggie, the breast implant drama. After 17 years and 7 surgeries, I had to let them go. It was never smooth sailing, I had complications right from the start. Fluid running down my chest, swelling, and finally a rupture which filled my chest with silicone. One has to question a beauty aesthetic which requires women to slice open their chests, pry the muscle off their rib cage, and insert a pair of silicone bags in the name of beauty. But I bought into that idea big time.
    And when they had to be removed for good… I cried, I mourned them, I felt like I had had a mastectomy. Because after 17 years they felt like my own breasts and they were gone. And then I felt all this guilt and self loathing because I had brought this upon myself.
    And as I lay in that hospital bed with my soul laid bare, I started the long road to my next and greatest mind shift.
    I AM ENOUGH.

    Enter the mermaid phase. It washed over me like a tidal wave, a silicone tail being a healthier choice than the toxic titties. Freediving, skin diving, mermaid shows and the era of the hair extensions. God I felt beautiful as a mermaid, I still do. How I loved having long, thick, beautiful hair. And how sad I felt to let them go.
    And how surprising to realise I didn’t need those hair extensions either.

    Que arthritis and swollen discs in my spine. Perfectly understandable after 17 years of pole dance fitness and the aerial arts.
    For so many years pole dance had made me feel beautiful, like a goddess spinning through the air. It fulfilled me in ways my marriage never could, a pure internal self love growing into a more confident and happy version of myself. But now life has other plans for me, or for my spine at least! It’s been difficult to accept these changes with grace, but I’m discovering new ways to embody the goddess within. So I’m spinning less and uplifting women in other ways. I’m sharing my many beautiful skills with my life coaching clients and we are rising together.

    Perhaps I’m getting better with self acceptance, or dare I say self love, the hardest journey of all. I can feel I’m starting to step into the next phase of womanhood. From maiden to mother to wild woman.
    So although I might cling to my eyelash extensions a little longer, I’m enjoying embodying the wisdom that comes from experience, and focusing less on trying to look 35.

    I still catch myself sometimes taking that sideways glance in the mirror whilst entangled in a yoga pose, registering the wrinkles with surprise and dismay. Caught off guard. Judging myself based on how I look, more unkind to myself than to my worst frenemies.

    But each of these sheddings has shown me more of who I am, on the inside. Not defined by breasts or youth. Not defined by prettiness or people pleasing.
    But rather defined by who I am on the inside.
    Life is a process of becoming.
    Of shedding.
    Of death and rebirth.
    Of rising from the ashes.
    It’s up to us to define who we are and our value to the world.
    Take your power back.
    It was never theirs to hold.

    I am Candice Baker, holistic life coach and relationship coach.

    WhatsApp bookings 0833613255