In the twilight realm between moonlight and memory, where the veils of heaven and underworld thin, unfolds a radiant reimagining of the ancient Sumerian myth—The Descent of Inanna—not as a tale of death and return, but as a profound inner initiation. Inanna, goddess of heaven and earth, adorned in power and beauty, hears the call not from above—but from within.
She leaves her throne and descends through seven gates, surrendering title, identity, and pride. Each layer stripped is a truth revealed. And at the final threshold waits Ereshkigal—not her enemy, but her mirror. The silent queen of shadow, grief, and forgotten wounds.
In their confrontation lies no battle—only revelation. Ereshkigal is the keeper of pain unspoken, rage unwept, power suppressed. She is the aspect of Inanna buried beneath divine perfection. And in that sacred underworld stillness, the queen does not rise by force, but by integration.
This is more than myth—it is a rite of return. A guide through shadow work, betrayal, loss, and trauma. A call to every woman who has ever lost herself in the noise of the world to journey inward and remember her crown.
True power is not in ascension alone—but in the descent, and the rising after.
Will you dare descend?
This book is a radical reinterpretation of The Descent of Inanna—not as a story of death and resurrection, but as an allegory for the inner journey every soul must make to find healing and wholeness. Here, Inanna’s descent is not a fall from grace, but a conscious surrender to shadow. Ereshkigal is not her adversary, but her disowned self.
As I walked through my own dark night of the soul—entangled in relationships marked by narcissistic harm, confusion, and spiritual dissonance—I found this myth speaking directly to my wounds. It offered not escape, but a map. A map for reclaiming the pieces of myself I had given away to be accepted, loved, or safe.
Rooted in biblical wisdom, shadow work, and a deep reverence for the divine feminine, this book is both a story and a mirror. It’s a tool for women rising from emotional abuse, spiritual disillusionment, or generational pain.
Through God’s mercy, I have been reshaped by descent. And in that hollow, I found harmony—not by becoming light alone, but by making peace with the dark.
This is my offering to every woman ready to heal. May it give you permission to descend, to rage, to remember—and to rise, crowned with clarity and compassion.