Sovereign Soul Sneak Peek... Dear Reader

Dear Reader,

Why do we still allow outdated patriarchal rules of society based on caveman logic—like “the biggest and strongest get to choose for the rest of us”—define the divine within us or enact political policy that rules us? 

I’ve sat with Maasai women in Kenya who still live under patriarchal rules—multiple wives, valued only for childbearing and their loyalty without reciprocity. I’ve seen women in India serve and eat alone in the back room, while men feast together. I’ve known women barred from temples in Thailand because of menstruation. If we are souls- souls without race or physical bodies and all souls are equal; why does the body we are born into become a measuring stick of rights, freedoms, and roles?

Even the Bible’s beloved stories reveal this imbalance—women’s pain, rivalry, sanctity, and resilience are recorded only as it related to men’s legacy, not their own. We are not told how they grieved, how they comforted each other, or how they bore the responsibility of carrying the next generations. Their humanity is hidden behind a lens that valued them solely for their wombs. This is the framework that shaped much of the world’s spiritual inheritance.

These are echoes of the same systems that wrote much of religious canon. The same roots that shaped our definitions of “holy.” In such societies where women were property, most people never left the shadow of their birthplace, and survival meant life without water, sanitation, or literacy. That stone-age mentality made sense when we needed the biggest and strongest of us to fight saber tooth lions for those who couldn’t- such as pregnant women with toddlers on their hips and infants nursing  at her breasts. In those societies, male dominance did often protect the next generation for survival. 

Many people today continue to allow narrow, time-bound views of gender roles to define us as if they were eternal truth. But with advancements in civilization- beyond the bare basics of simple survival, a woman’s contribution to the world goes far beyond just her ability to birth sons and warriors. 

Every story has a source, and every source has a motive. Throughout western society, stories—from scripture, culture, and history—have been told through narrow lenses that silence or distort women’s voices. This book encourages questioning because we cannot remain tethered to past dogma when it no longer benefits our reality. By discerning what nourishes us today from the blindly inherited scripts of yesterday, we can step into spiritual liberation.

So, when we read a verse, hear a sermon, attend a political rally, or are offered a “truth,” we can ask:

·       Who is telling the story?

·       Who benefits from this version?

·       Whose voice is missing?

·       And most importantly, will I keep retelling these stories without pausing to question their validity, and underlying message beyond what is the surface level spiritual anecdote?

Why should my body, my worth, my spirit still be chained to one woman’s choices—real or mythic—who possibly ate an apple six thousand years ago?

When women reclaim our stories—of history, of scripture, of womanhood—we reclaim the power to see clearly, choose wisely, and no longer confuse obedience with faith.

Bite the fruit—
not in rebellion,
but in reclamation.
Not to sin—
but to see.