The Mama Manifesto

We are the ones who cracked first.

We are the ones who held the frequency while the old world burned.

We are the ones who chose to stay.

Not to conform —

but to transmute.

To alchemize the ache.

To scream holy into the void.

To remember what they tried to make us forget.

We are the sons and daughters of collapse and the parents of rebirth.

The rageful. The radiant. The reverent.

We bled at the altar of survival

and now we rise, not polished,

but primordial.

We do not seek permission.

We do not wait to be crowned.

We are the crown.

This is for the sacred disruptors,

the soft-hearted revolutionaries,

the timeline jumpers with ash on their cheeks and light in their spine.

We are not selling healing.

We are embodying liberation.

We lead from embodiment.

We teach through remembrance.

We serve as mirrors, wombs, wrecking balls.

We mother the collective through the portal of our own becoming.

We birth new worlds with every word, every touch, every truth told.

This is not a brand.

It’s a broadcast.

A war cry and a lullaby.

A call to rise as the Sovereign Creatrix you were always becoming.

We remember when the veils were first lifted…

and we held each other steady while the new world cracked open.

We are Mama Manifests.

And we are not waiting anymore.