Freyja: The Magic Too Powerful for Men

Seidr magic was considered ergi, a word that meant unmanly, but also carried connotations of sexual impropriety, of being penetrated, of being feminine in ways that threatened masculine power structures. For a man to practice seidr meant risking his reputation, his standing, his perceived strength.

But here’s what matters: the magic itself was not weak. It was not lesser. It was not inferior to “masculine” forms of power.

It was threatening. And so it was labeled inappropriate.

This is how power structures work. When a form of power threatens the existing hierarchy, it gets labeled as wrong, shameful, inappropriate, too much. Not because it’s actually wrong, but because allowing it would shift who holds power.

Freyja didn’t care about the label. She commanded seidr anyway. She taught it. She wielded it. And when the king of the gods himself came to learn from her, she taught him too, knowing full well that he would face shame for practicing “women’s magic.”

The power was worth it. Because the power was real.

Where have you been taught that your power is inappropriate?

Not your acceptable power, the power that fits within existing structures, the power that doesn’t threaten anyone, the power that makes you useful without making you dangerous.

Your actual power. The power that makes people uncomfortable. The power that shifts dynamics. The power that threatens hierarchies just by existing.

For women: It’s often sexual power, intuitive knowing, emotional intelligence, collaborative strength, the ability to see through pretense, the capacity to name what everyone else is pretending not to notice. These forms of power get labeled as “manipulative,” “too emotional,” “dramatic,” “difficult.”

For anyone who’s been marginalized: It’s often the power of naming systems, of refusing to perform acceptability, of choosing yourself first, of not making others comfortable with your oppression. This power gets labeled as “angry,” “divisive,” “ungrateful,” “aggressive.”

For anyone who’s been taught to be “nice”: It’s the power of boundaries, of saying no, of walking away, of letting people face consequences, of refusing to carry what isn’t yours. This power gets labeled as “selfish,” “cold,” “mean,” “uncaring.”

The labels are designed to make you doubt the power. To make you think that if it makes people uncomfortable, it must be wrong. To convince you that “appropriate” power is the only power worth having.

Freyja says: reject appropriate. Appropriate power is power that doesn’t threaten anything. Real power always makes someone uncomfortable.

This is not about performing power for shock value. This is not about being “inappropriate” just to prove you can. This is about recognizing which of your actual powers have been labeled inappropriate, and reclaiming them anyway.

• Name your inappropriate power. What do you have that makes people uncomfortable? What strength of yours gets labeled as “too much” or “threatening” or “not how things are done”? What power have you been taught to suppress, soften, apologize for?
• Write it down. Look at it. See it clearly: This is not wrong. This is threatening. And threatening is not the same as wrong.
• Use it anyway. Not recklessly. Not without strategy. But stop hiding it. Stop apologizing for it. Stop making it smaller so others feel bigger.
• If your power is intuitive knowing, stop pretending you don’t see what you see. Name it. Even when people get uncomfortable with being seen clearly.
• If your power is boundary-setting, stop apologizing for having limits. State them. Maintain them. Let people be uncomfortable with your no.
• If your power is emotional honesty, stop performing emotional neutrality to make others comfortable. Feel what you feel. Say what’s true. Let them deal with their discomfort.
• If your power is sexual sovereignty, stop hiding your desire, your standards, your complete ownership of your own body and choices. Let people be uncomfortable with your refusal to carry shame.
• Study who taught you it was inappropriate. This is crucial shadow work. Who benefited from you believing your power was wrong? Who got to maintain their position because you kept yours hidden? Who taught you that this particular strength was shameful, and what power did they hold?
• Often, the people who most need you to believe your power is inappropriate are the people most threatened by it.
• Find others who wield it. Freyja taught Odin. She didn’t hide her power because it was labeled feminine and therefore lesser. She commanded it, she taught it, she passed it on. Find your seidr practitioners, the people who wield the power you’ve been taught to hide. Learn from them. Practice with them. Build your strength in community with others who refuse to call their power inappropriate.

Here’s what “appropriate” power actually means: power that doesn’t change anything. Power that operates within existing structures. Power that makes you useful without making you dangerous.

Appropriate power says please. It waits its turn. It doesn’t make anyone uncomfortable. It asks permission. It apologizes for taking up space.

Inappropriate power names what is. It chooses first. It makes people face truth. It claims what it wants. It refuses to apologize for existing fully.

Odin had appropriate power. He was the Allfather. He commanded armies, controlled the runes, sat at the top of the hierarchy. All very appropriate.

But he still came to Freyja to learn seidr. Because appropriate power has limits. And some things require the power they call inappropriate.

This ritual helps you identify and reclaim the power you’ve been taught to call inappropriate. You’ll need:

• Paper and pen
• A candle
• A small bowl of water
• Salt
• A quiet, private space

Step 1: Name the inappropriate power

Light the candle. In its light, write down the answer to this question: “What power do I have that makes people uncomfortable?”

Be specific. Not “I’m strong.” What kind of strong? Not “I see things.” What do you see? Name the actual power that gets labeled as too much, inappropriate, threatening.

Examples:

• “I can see when people are lying and I name it.”
• “I know my worth and I refuse to settle.”
• “I’m sexually confident and I don’t apologize for my desire.”
• “I can cut people off when they’re draining me.”

Step 2: Witness the labeling

Under your power, write every label that’s been placed on it. Every name you’ve been called for having this power. Every judgment you’ve internalized.

“Manipulative.” “Cold.” “Too much.” “Threatening.” “Difficult.” “Aggressive.” “Slutty.” “Selfish.”

Write them all. These are the labels designed to make you hide your power.

Step 3: Dissolve the shame

Add three pinches of salt to the water, saying: “This power is mine. These labels are not.”

Dip your finger in the salt water. Touch it to your forehead, your throat, your heart, saying: “I reclaim my sight. I reclaim my voice. I reclaim my power.”

The salt water represents purificatio, not of the power, but of the shame placed on it.

Step 4: Burn the labels

Carefully tear off the section of paper with the labels (not your power statement). Hold it in the candle flame and let it burn in a safe container or sink. As it burns, say:

“These labels are not mine. This shame is not mine. My power stands without apology.”

Step 5: Keep your power visible

Take the paper with your power statement written on it. Fold it and keep it somewhere you’ll see it daily: in your wallet, on your altar, taped inside a journal. Let it remind you: this power is real, it’s yours, and it doesn’t require anyone’s approval.

For the next moon cycle (approximately 28 days), consciously wield this power at least once. Use it. Practice it. Let people be uncomfortable. Notice what changes when you stop hiding what’s real.

You have power that someone, somewhere, has taught you is inappropriate. Power that makes people uncomfortable. Power that threatens existing dynamics just by existing.

That power is not wrong. It’s just real.

Freyja commanded seidr, the magic considered too feminine, too powerful, too inappropriate for the masculine power structure. And the king of the gods learned from her anyway, because the power was undeniable.

Your inappropriate power is undeniable too.

Where will you stop hiding it? Where will you stop apologizing for it? Where will you wield it fully, even knowing that someone will call it too much, too threatening, too inappropriate?

The people who need your power to stay hidden are the people most threatened by what you could do with it.

Wield it anyway.