Persephone’s Story
Don’t believe the bullshit myth they tell you about me. The ancient version of my story is much closer to the truth.
For the record…
Hades never kidnapped me. If anything, I kidnapped him. I chose to go into the underworld. It was a decision I made to get free. To get out of the prison I was in. Because seriously, what good is being a Goddess if all I can be is my mother’s co-dependent child or my father’s victim to rescue?
Fuck. That. Shit.
So if you’re reading this and you care to know the truth, I was never a victimized child. No! I was always more like the Indian Goddess Kali Ma, the Irish Morrigan, the Sumerian Ereshkegal, the Goddess of Death.
Fact: In the most ancient layer of my myth, my name Persephone means “She Who Destroys The Light.” That is who I am. I am the Goddess of Spring and of the Underworld. I am the one who both produces everything and destroys everything. I am divine chaos. Fuck your illusions, rules, and your need for compartmentalization, containers, and control.
Just saying.
Anyway, know that my descent into hell was a conscious choice, an act of mercy.
I heard the suffering cries of the dead and couldn’t understand why no one else could.
So I went down to comfort them. I chose to go down to love them, meet them, accept them, see them, and include them. To bring life and the promise of my Spring into the very winter and death in them all. To breathe air, energy, and care into the stranglehold of their despair, death, and decay.
But let’s be clear. Fundamentally I wanted freedom. And I was going to take that freedom no matter what.
I would eat from that fruit in hell if it was the last fucking thing I did.
So understand, there are no victims in my origin story. There are no perpetrators either. And there was never any need for my rescue.
No, my dears.
I simply loved Hades. And I loved the fruit of the underworld. And so I ate it willingly. Aggressively. Purposefully. To have the power to walk in and out of the underworld whenever I God-damned wanted.
So yes, I trapped him in my web, seduced, used him, and manipulated him — all for love, all for power, all for freedom.
Lucky him. I don’t seduce just anyone.
Hades will tell you otherwise. Hades will say to you that I am nothing but a mercenary who used all my talents, gifts, beauty, wit, and sex to get what I wanted.
All true.
But the more profound truth is, he wanted it. He wanted me. He wanted to be seen, gotten, and loved in all his spots. Wanted me to seduce him. Wanted me to take him. Wanted me to use him. Wanted me to adore him. Wanted me to want him. Wanted to be met by an equal, a faithful fellow bottom dweller. He wanted to be rescued from his own boredom and loneliness.
The thing is, it’s really boring and lonely at times to be a God.
Even Hades needs to be reminded every so often that he can be seduced. Even Hades needs to be taken out of control. Even Hades gets a little bored with being a deity. Every once in a while, we need a reminder that we have internal dwellings still left to discover. A place where we are still hookable, seducable, and manipulatable.
If you’re listening, Hades… you’re welcome.
I love you. I adore you. I always will. Despite what you think. Despite what you fear. Despite the hit to your ego… It was always you I wanted. Always. Not the fruit. Or at least, not just the fruit. I may have said “no” to you from the very beginning, but it was always so we could get to my “yes.” And Hades, if you didn’t know this (you thick-headed immortal), I am a resounding “yes” to you.
A very. Resounding. Yes.
So really, who seduced who? And really, who cares. All that matters, all that ever matters, is love. And freedom. And the power to walk in and out of hell by choice. And the sanctioning, succulent, seductive, unalienable right to a full-throated “yes”…
Yes… the satisfying, pomegranate authority of a fully aligned yes…
So please… don’t believe the myth… Hades never kidnapped me. If anything, it was I who kidnapped him.
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