Finding My Path to Kali Maa

When I was 25, I was living in Boston with my boyfriend when we got into a big argument. The kind that cracked something open in me. I yelled, I cried, I felt everything all at once.

Whenever things felt overwhelming in that relationship, I would drive back to my parents’ home in New Hampshire. It was my place of refuge. That weekend, still raw from the argument, I sat down with my parents and shared what had happened. Somehow, in that moment, my father and I began talking about Kali Maa.

My father is Bengali and grew up Hindu, and in Bengali culture there is a deep devotion to Goddess Kali. When I was younger, my grandmother, my Dida, would visit from India and bring with her a small brass statue of a woman with her tongue sticking out. I never paid much attention to it as a teenager. I didn’t know who she was or what she represented.

My mother, who was Roman Catholic, had a very different reaction. I remember one time my Dida left the statue behind, intentionally or not. When my mother found it, she mocked the figure, sticking out her own tongue in disgust before placing it in a shoebox and tucking it away in a closet. At the time, I didn’t question it. I simply moved on.

But that weekend, everything changed. Through my tears, my father told me the story of Kali Maa. He explained that she embodies the full spectrum of human emotion, especially the emotions that live within women. Rage, grief, ferocity, protection, love. He told me that there is nothing wrong with feeling deeply. That to be expressive, emotional, even wild in moments of intensity is not something to suppress, but something that has always been understood within this tradition. So much so that it is honored through the image of a goddess.

He told me how Kali, on the battlefield, was consumed by her mission to destroy the asuras or demons the forces of darkness. She became unstoppable, overtaken by her own power and fury as she fought to protect the universe. No one could calm her. No one could stop her. Except Shiva.

Knowing that words would not reach her in that state, Shiva laid himself down in her path. When Kali stepped on him, she was suddenly brought back into awareness. In that moment, she realized what she had done. She stepped on her husband and touched him with her foot. Her tongue came out, not in mockery, but in shock, humility, and awakening. And just like that, the destruction ceased.

As my father shared this story, something in me softened. For the first time, I felt a deep sense of relief. There was nothing wrong with me. I wasn’t “too much.” I was human. I was a woman who felt deeply. And there was a place, a lineage, and a goddess that not only accepted that, but revered it.

I remember that moment so clearly. It marked the beginning of a new spiritual path for me.

Soon after, I felt called to share this realization with my boyfriend. I sat down with my journal and carefully wrote out what I wanted to say. When I returned to Boston, I asked him to sit with me. I told him that I had discovered a part of myself I was no longer ashamed of.

He listened. Really listened. And in that moment, he accepted me. Maybe because, in some way, he recognized that same energy within himself.

A few months later, during Christmas at my parents’ home in New Hampshire, we decided to exchange simple but meaningful gifts with each other. That morning, still in my pajamas, I opened the gift he had given me. Inside was my very first Kali statue. To this day, it remains my favorite.

I still have the photo my father took in that moment, my mouth wide open in surprise and awe. And in the background, my sister peering over my shoulder and my mother not entirely pleased. It still makes me laugh picturing her face!

But more than anything, that moment stays with me because of how deeply seen and loved I felt.

My father’s story met me exactly when I needed it. It shifted something fundamental within me and set me on a path of self-discovery, reconnecting with my roots, and deepening my relationship with the Divine Mother.

And my partner’s willingness to receive that part of me, to honor it, and to grow alongside it became the foundation of what would become a 20-year union and 15 years of marriage. Looking back, I can see that this was more than just a story. It was an initiation.

Jai Kali Maa