hi Helena, the way you retell and connect Medusa's and Danae's stories is so gripping. you've encouraged the reader to rethink these classic myths from the omitted perspectives which not only makes for an engrossing conversation but helps coax out a much needed media literacy. thank you for sharing, looking forward to the next part!
Thank you so much, Liv! That means the world to me! I love hearing that the myths feel more alive to you now, even when you already know them. That’s exactly my goal: to breathe soul back into these ancient stories and show the hidden strength in the feminine threads running through them.
And yes, Danae is so often overlooked, but she’s such an essential part of the story. Her silence in the myths speaks volumes, and yet her presence carries so much power. I'm so glad you connected with that.
Oh, wow. This is absolutely gorgeous. There’s SUCH a particular ache in the way you trace the silence of these women, it's not a void so much as it is something much heavier and palpable. I’ve always felt drawn to Medusa, though I couldn’t articulate why. Reading this, I realised it might be because she reminds me of every time I was made to feel dangerous simply for being visible.
Your telling makes me want to believe that Athena didn’t turn away out of betrayal, but out of grief too big to name. And that maybe Medusa, in her exile, found a kind of freedom herself.
Thank you for giving voice to what was stolen from these myths - their tenderness, their fury, and their agency. I’ll be thinking of Danae and Medusa not as stepping stones, but as mirrors.
Every line pulses with the ache of voices left out, left behind, or sealed in bronze. The connections you draw—between Medusa and Danaë, between sacred spaces and violent intrusions, between beauty and punishment—feel like tectonic truths buried beneath centuries of “heroic” polish.
And that line?
“If Medusa could look in the mirror, she would see Danae.”
That one cracked something open in me. Because yes—these aren’t just myths, they’re blueprints for how power tells stories about pain. And your work here doesn’t just challenge the blueprint—it burns it.
The spiral of silence. The mirroring of myth. The rage that coils like a serpent in the throat, waiting not to strike but to speak.
Thank you for this fire.
Thank you for the mirror.
We’re listening. And we’ll be back for Part Two—blade sheathed, shield dropped, eyes open.
I am enthralled by your way with words, Helena. I was already familiar with Medusa’s origin, but there’s something about the way you describe it that makes it all the more thought-provoking and profound. It’s sad to realize that even in such distant times, sexual assault was masked by the prevailing (and deeply harmful notion) of blaming a woman for her charm and beauty. It’s infuriating to recall that Athena’s idea of justice was to turn Medusa into a “monster”.
This left the following question : But was she really a monster? It’s unfair to assume, especially when she didn’t choose her fate. None of them did. In fact, they were all tied to the actions of vile men…
I’m SO glad you’re covering this story and shedding light on such a delicate and important topic. Can’t wait to read the next piece! :)
Sofia, your comment made my day. Thank you so much for reading and leaving your words here! She was never a monster, but a mirror of people who looked at her... Let's continue this conversation next time after I post about what she truly represents. Thank you for being here, woman!
Reminds me of a snake charmer. But if the snake is a Black Mamba, female snake handlers need to be very careful.
Found in The Bush in Africa, you get a single bite of this snake - and you can face a death sentence just as bad as untreated bacterial meningitis. That bite can kill you within hours. No wonder that snake is known as “Death Incarnate.”
Helena, your portrayal of Medusa is both haunting and empowering. Recasting her transformation as an act of agency rather than punishment offers a fresh perspective that challenges long-held interpretations. It’s a poignant reminder of how myths can evolve to reflect contemporary understandings of identity and power.
What a story!!! I love the way you tell the story...it makes it more attainable. And I love the way at the end you talk about the different versions and from where. I also loved one line ...'bones stretch into the shape of a man..." Thanks for sharing. You are my 235th bedtime story in this story circle of mine :)
This piece left me breathless. The way you wove myth and silence together, how the gods’ indifference and the erasure of women’s voices echo through time, was both haunting and beautiful. I never thought of Medusa and Danae as mirrors of each other, but now I can't unsee it. Thank you for giving depth, pain, and dignity to the forgotten corners of these stories. It’s not just a retelling, it’s a reclamation.
You have such a way with words. I wish I could write as beautifully and well done as you do.
To answer your question, Medusa to me is a symbol of me surviving my own sexual abuse. I plan on it being one of my first tattoos. When I can finally afford one that is lol. Medusa is my favorite person from Greek mythology. I had a Greek mythology phase when I was like 11-13 but I haven't read or thought about in a while other than the tattoo, so this should be an interesting series for me to follow!! Thank you for writing this ❤️
Thank you for sharing your experience. It's such a powerful image of transformation and tenderness. I do want to gently offer a broader perspective too. The version of Medusa as a traumatized victim, while meaningful and resonant for many, actually comes from a later retelling of her myth. Originally Medusa wasn't portrayed as a victim at all. She was a chthonic, protective force, wild, sovereign, and deeply connected to primal feminine power.
There’s a fierce, world-holding energy in her that goes far beyond victimhood, an energy that protects, warns, and sees through illusion... I feel like there’s so much more to her than we collectively remember, and I’ll be sharing more about that soon.
hi Helena, the way you retell and connect Medusa's and Danae's stories is so gripping. you've encouraged the reader to rethink these classic myths from the omitted perspectives which not only makes for an engrossing conversation but helps coax out a much needed media literacy. thank you for sharing, looking forward to the next part!
I love how you tell these myths! I already know the stories, but you still make me want to read them—they feel more personal, more alive.
And, that’s exactly how I always interpreted Medusa’s story too—Athena gave her a weapon, not a curse. Something to protect herself.
But I’d never connected that to Danae before. Honestly, I didn’t even know her name until now.
Most versions just jump straight to “the king sends Perseus after Medusa's head.”
This was such a great post—I can’t wait to see what’s next!
Thank you so much, Liv! That means the world to me! I love hearing that the myths feel more alive to you now, even when you already know them. That’s exactly my goal: to breathe soul back into these ancient stories and show the hidden strength in the feminine threads running through them.
And yes, Danae is so often overlooked, but she’s such an essential part of the story. Her silence in the myths speaks volumes, and yet her presence carries so much power. I'm so glad you connected with that.
Oh, wow. This is absolutely gorgeous. There’s SUCH a particular ache in the way you trace the silence of these women, it's not a void so much as it is something much heavier and palpable. I’ve always felt drawn to Medusa, though I couldn’t articulate why. Reading this, I realised it might be because she reminds me of every time I was made to feel dangerous simply for being visible.
Your telling makes me want to believe that Athena didn’t turn away out of betrayal, but out of grief too big to name. And that maybe Medusa, in her exile, found a kind of freedom herself.
Thank you for giving voice to what was stolen from these myths - their tenderness, their fury, and their agency. I’ll be thinking of Danae and Medusa not as stepping stones, but as mirrors.
You are incredible!
Very thought-provoking! I enjoyed it.
this is so well written it hurts, so glad I found you <3
Gala, thank you so much for these words. I appreciate them deeply.
This isn’t just storytelling—it’s invocation.
You didn’t write about Medusa.
You called her back.
Every line pulses with the ache of voices left out, left behind, or sealed in bronze. The connections you draw—between Medusa and Danaë, between sacred spaces and violent intrusions, between beauty and punishment—feel like tectonic truths buried beneath centuries of “heroic” polish.
And that line?
“If Medusa could look in the mirror, she would see Danae.”
That one cracked something open in me. Because yes—these aren’t just myths, they’re blueprints for how power tells stories about pain. And your work here doesn’t just challenge the blueprint—it burns it.
The spiral of silence. The mirroring of myth. The rage that coils like a serpent in the throat, waiting not to strike but to speak.
Thank you for this fire.
Thank you for the mirror.
We’re listening. And we’ll be back for Part Two—blade sheathed, shield dropped, eyes open.
🌀🐍🖋️
I am enthralled by your way with words, Helena. I was already familiar with Medusa’s origin, but there’s something about the way you describe it that makes it all the more thought-provoking and profound. It’s sad to realize that even in such distant times, sexual assault was masked by the prevailing (and deeply harmful notion) of blaming a woman for her charm and beauty. It’s infuriating to recall that Athena’s idea of justice was to turn Medusa into a “monster”.
This left the following question : But was she really a monster? It’s unfair to assume, especially when she didn’t choose her fate. None of them did. In fact, they were all tied to the actions of vile men…
I’m SO glad you’re covering this story and shedding light on such a delicate and important topic. Can’t wait to read the next piece! :)
Sofia, your comment made my day. Thank you so much for reading and leaving your words here! She was never a monster, but a mirror of people who looked at her... Let's continue this conversation next time after I post about what she truly represents. Thank you for being here, woman!
Love this read
Reminds me of a snake charmer. But if the snake is a Black Mamba, female snake handlers need to be very careful.
Found in The Bush in Africa, you get a single bite of this snake - and you can face a death sentence just as bad as untreated bacterial meningitis. That bite can kill you within hours. No wonder that snake is known as “Death Incarnate.”
Helena, your portrayal of Medusa is both haunting and empowering. Recasting her transformation as an act of agency rather than punishment offers a fresh perspective that challenges long-held interpretations. It’s a poignant reminder of how myths can evolve to reflect contemporary understandings of identity and power.
What a story!!! I love the way you tell the story...it makes it more attainable. And I love the way at the end you talk about the different versions and from where. I also loved one line ...'bones stretch into the shape of a man..." Thanks for sharing. You are my 235th bedtime story in this story circle of mine :)
I had never heard any of Medusas backstory, holy hell.
This was written with such depth and emotion.
The section about Danae was especially gripping. You really brought the pain of her father’s betrayal to life.
I can’t wait for part two!
I really loved the perspective you took on the tale. Really made me feel for Medusa and Danae. Thank you for sharing!
This piece left me breathless. The way you wove myth and silence together, how the gods’ indifference and the erasure of women’s voices echo through time, was both haunting and beautiful. I never thought of Medusa and Danae as mirrors of each other, but now I can't unsee it. Thank you for giving depth, pain, and dignity to the forgotten corners of these stories. It’s not just a retelling, it’s a reclamation.
You have such a way with words. I wish I could write as beautifully and well done as you do.
To answer your question, Medusa to me is a symbol of me surviving my own sexual abuse. I plan on it being one of my first tattoos. When I can finally afford one that is lol. Medusa is my favorite person from Greek mythology. I had a Greek mythology phase when I was like 11-13 but I haven't read or thought about in a while other than the tattoo, so this should be an interesting series for me to follow!! Thank you for writing this ❤️
Thank you for sharing your experience. It's such a powerful image of transformation and tenderness. I do want to gently offer a broader perspective too. The version of Medusa as a traumatized victim, while meaningful and resonant for many, actually comes from a later retelling of her myth. Originally Medusa wasn't portrayed as a victim at all. She was a chthonic, protective force, wild, sovereign, and deeply connected to primal feminine power.
There’s a fierce, world-holding energy in her that goes far beyond victimhood, an energy that protects, warns, and sees through illusion... I feel like there’s so much more to her than we collectively remember, and I’ll be sharing more about that soon.