Losing your mojo usually happens gradually. Sure, some people get hit by a bus and lose their mojo overnight, but most of the time, it's more insidious than that. One day, you're filled with possibility, hope, health, sexual prowess, and opportunity. Then you wake up years later and realize, without necessarily know why, that something's been chipping away at your mojo until you're whittled down to a shell of who you once were. All the while, you're scratching your head, wondering where the hell your mojo went and how you can get it back.

Do you remember what it felt like to have mojo? Did you feel energized, successful, beautiful, powerful, connected, and blissful? What did that feel like? Maybe you just got the fat packet from Harvard informing you of your acceptance, your class just voted you homecoming queen, and the crowned king magically confessed his undying love on the dance floor. Maybe you finally qualified for that marathon, got promoted in that job you love, signed the papers to buy your first condo, and on top of it all, the love of your life just proposed. Maybe your best friend just asked you to drive cross country with her, and along the way, you hiked in eight national parks, bared your midriff while dancing on bar tops, weasled out of two speeding tickets, and drove off into the sunset laughing. Maybe I've been watching too many chick flicks, but I once felt this way, as if the world glowed the golden hue of a fairytale, and my life was blessed. Maybe it's the ignorance of youth that led me to feel that way, but I felt like Austin Powers, like my mojo was alive and kicking, bay-by. I attracted positive energy, like a magnet drawing the people, accomplishments, and luck that I desired.

Then one day, I lost it.

Things started out hunky dory. I graduated from a great college, married a handsome doctor who was my classmate in medical school, and got accepted at my first choice OB/GYN training program. But somewhere along the way, something went wrong.

I like to blame the training I had to endure to become a doctor. It's hard to hang onto your health, much less your marriage and your mojo, during twelve years of medical education, when you live by the surgeon's credo: eat when you can, sleep when you can, have sex when you can, and never fuck with the pancreas. Time passes, and you find yourself sacrificing your own health in favor of others', working in a job that not only drains, but does nothing to inspire you, and stuck in a marriage that just isn't working. You cling to your mojo, but you can feel it gradually slipping away. Next thing you know, you're a twenty-seven year old divorcee with high blood pressure and a chip on her shoulder.

You cope by drinking a few glasses of wine at night - just to take the edge off. You gain a little weight, which affects your self-image, and the medication you take for your high blood pressure makes you sluggish, so exercising seems like a bad idea. You quit going to the gym because you don't want anyone to see the muffin top over your too-tight exercise clothes, until one day, you finally cancel your membership because you're tired of wasting $78/month. Because you don't feel so great about yourself, you shy away from sex with husband #2, and before you know it, you're thirty-three and about to be twice divorced.

I don't know about you, but for me, it all snuck up on me, like the fog that hovers behind the mountains where I live and then suddenly spills over and pounces. Each little chip off your mojo seems harmless enough. But then one morning after a few too many glasses of wine, I found myself looking in the mirror, and instead of seeing the perky, pretty twenty-four year old who has been my internal vision of myself, I saw a sallow-skinned, pudgy, middle-aged woman with puffy eyes. And I wonder what the hell happened.

After a while, I started to get my mojo back. I married husband #3 (an angel) and gave birth to a beautiful little girl; only, within two weeks of giving birth, my Dad died, my dog died, and my little brother ended up in liver failure from Zithromax. Bye, bye mojo. So I quit my job and wandered around rootless for a while, scratching my head and wondering where my mojo went. And it's not like the rest of my life was all peaches and rosebuds. Although I adored husband #3, our never-exactly-raucous sex life had dwindled to sweet but perfunctory sex a few times each month. My once-vibrant spiritual life was whittled down to evening God blesses with my toddler (as in God bless Nana, God bless aunt Becca, God bless Grendel the doggie), and the occasional "thank God" when I narrowly avoided a car crash. And to make matters worse, I'm about to turn forty -- not in a plaintive Meg Ryan in When Harry Met Sally "someday" sort of way, but very, very soon.

So what's a girl to do?

For one thing, I am blessed because I know I am not alone. Many of my friends and at least half the patients who come into my office share stories that mimic mine. (Except for the two-time divorce thing. That appears to be my humbling cross to bear alone. Me and J. Lo) It seems like nearly every woman I know is in the midst of a life transition- a health crisis, a job loss, a divorce, an empty nest, a fertility battle, menopause, loss of a loved one, or new motherhood. And with these transitions, many seem to lose their mojo. What is this all about? Is this what they mean by a midlife crisis? Then how come women from twenty-five to sixty-five seem to be sharing similar experiences?

I think the answer lies in Owning Pink, something I started doing shortly after my Perfect Storm three years ago. We may not be able to change our circumstances, but we can change our perceptions and our actions. What do I mean by Owning Pink? I call it The New Feminism. The generation before me rejected all things feminine to assert their power in a male-dominated world. What resulted is a whole generation of women who grew up thinking that to reclaim our power, we had to reject the feminine. But I see things shifting. I'm witnessing women discovering that their highest power springs from that feminine essence, the parts that make us uniquely female. That's what Owning Pink is all about- reclaiming our femininity, and with it, your power, in all its many facets. Owning Pink is about embracing all things that make us female- and whole. When we're Owning Pink, we're owning creativity, spirituality, health, fertility, motherhood, menopause, and joy.

How did I start Owning Pink? Well, for me, it began with finding some space in my life to take a good look at who I really am, with slowing down and turning inward for a while. I took a lot of women's workshops, did a whole lot of writing, spend many quiet, creative hours in my art studio, practiced yoga, tried (not very well) to meditate, and turned the lens on the choices I was making in life. Since I started Owning Pink, I quit the job that was no longer feeding my soul, found a new job that does, and focused on improving my health. Next up is finding ways to connect more intimately with my girlfriends, recharging my sex life, finding a spiritual community, and digging deep into my creativity. What about you? What do you need to Own?

Owning Pink has been a transformational experience for me. I'm reclaiming my health, my joie de vivre, my spiritual connection, my sexual fire, my feminine power, and at last, I'm finding it- my mojo! What about you? Can you hear the Pink battle cry? My own experience may have put me a few bends further down this lavender-scented river than others, but I'm definitely still on this quest, and I'd love to have some moral support. Anyone feel like jumping on my raft and seeing where this journey takes us?

Think of this blog as a free online course in reclaiming your health, your femininity, and your mojo. Each post will have exercises aimed at helping you Own some aspect of being female, the kinds of exercises we routinely do in Owning Pink workshops. Although you can do most of these exercises at home, it's so much more fun if you can collect a Pink Posse of your own and do it with friends. Men can benefit from many of these exercises as well (just skip the Pretty Pink Pussy Tour, guys!). I find that a lot of men are yearning to reclaim their feminine - we'll just call you the Pink Gods. My husband is one of you, and he's been helping with his input, so don't think you're alone if you're a guy who wants to Own Pink.

So what do you think, Pinkies? Send me some juicy juju in the comments section, and if you're on board for joining me, tell me how you've lost your mojo and how're you're going to Own Pink. And if you have any health/medical questions, post them too. After all, I am an OB/GYN, and you'll help me keep my mojo if I can help you get yours. For anything I can't answer, I'm collecting a Pink Posse of Hot Pink Goddess experts, and I'll share all the practical tips I learn along the way.

We can do it, girlfriends! I'm all fired up, and I can feel the Pink juices flowing already. I'm going to start by going to a drug store to shop for a notebook I can use as a journal during this process. Do you want to go buy yours? Soon, I'll post what I'm going to do with it.

Until then, rock on, Pinkies. Go get your Pink on!

With Pink love,
Lissa