By Lucille Alabaster
Before gods wore beards and sat on thrones of judgment, they slithered.
Long before patriarchal monotheism rewrote the divine script, the earliest deities were serpentine. They lived in caves, coiled in cosmic eggs, and whispered secrets to priestesses who did not yet know shame. In nearly every ancient culture, from Sumer to Mesoamerica, from the Nile to Nagaland, serpents ruled the mythos.
And if you peel back the veil far enough, you’ll find that the first gods looked a lot more like mothers than kings.
The Original Creatrix Was a Serpent
In ancient Egypt, the cosmic serpent Mehen protected Ra on his nightly journey through the underworld. Cneph—a primordial, serpent-shaped creator—spoke the world into being through a breath wrapped around an egg. In India, Kundalini is a coiled serpent at the base of the spine, the source of awakening. In Mesoamerican cultures, Quetzalcoatl, the feathered serpent, brought knowledge and civilization to the people.
These weren’t demons.
They were givers of life, wisdom, and transformation.
But once the “sky father” religions rose—gods of order, war, and lightning—the serpent was demonized. The dragon was slain. The womb was silenced.
Why the Snake Was Feared
Because it shed its skin.
Because it lived between earth and spirit.
Because it symbolized the feminine: cyclical, powerful, unpredictable, and impossible to control.
The snake was associated with:
• Healing and medicine (see the caduceus)
• Sexuality and fertility (coiled, phallic, rhythmic)
• Knowledge and prophecy (think: the Garden of Eden)
So what did patriarchal religion do?
It vilified the serpent.
It cast the woman as the temptress.
And it taught us to fear what we were once meant to become.
The Serpent Was Never the Villain
Eve didn’t fall. She woke up.
The serpent in Eden didn’t destroy paradise—it offered awareness, choice, and the fire of divine self-knowing. That is the same serpent encoded in our DNA. In our blood. In our bones.
We are not daughters of shame.
We are descendants of the dragon.
The Return of the Serpent Mother
As women, witches, and mystics rise again, so too does the ancient serpent.
She curls around our spines.
She slips into our dreams.
She speaks through our rituals, our orgasms, our spells.
To reclaim the serpent is to reclaim:
• Your right to know
• Your right to feel
• Your right to change
Let the serpent rise in you.
Let the sky father tremble.
⸻
“The snake never lied. It simply whispered what they didn’t want you to hear.”
—Lucille Alabaster
