The Soother of Dragons

By Rina Lahav, Sex and Couple Therapist

Introduction

“The Soother of Dragons” follows the awakening of one who was born to calm others — until she lost touch with herself.

Through four stages — “Holding the Fire,” “Exhaustion,” “Understanding,” and “Rebirth” — the piece reveals a deep inner mechanism: the longing to restore order and safety by emotionally regulating others, even at the cost of one’s own depletion and disappearance.

It is the story of a survival pattern disguised as healing — the attempt to soothe the world instead of listening to the body and soul. Yet from within collapse and silence, a new movement emerges: a shift from outer-dependent regulation to inner regulation, from survival to presence, from consuming fire to inner light.

The fairy, once known as “The Soother of Dragons,” no longer fades to preserve a false peace.

She returns to her breath, learning to hold herself in a gentle yet steady light.

This is a poem of healing, boundaries, and the rebirth of feminine strength — no longer tied to extinguishing others’ flames.

Holding the Fire

A little fairy was born of light,

but not for herself — for a broken world.

She knew how to touch others’ pain,

to breathe for them forbidden emotions.

She made sure dragons never met their grief,

never felt frustration, sorrow, or burning rage.

And when they roared — she breathed in their place;

when they burned — she washed their wounds with her waves.

And if a tear ever fell — she drank it whole.

She never knew life without soothing, without saving,

without carrying every rough emotion on her skin.

For she was born to calm everyone around her,

and had no idea what it meant — to rest within herself.

And so, slowly, she wore out, breath by breath.

Exhaustion

One night, in vast quiet,

she lay upon the earth, without a sound.

The dragon slept, full from her warmth,

and she — empty, heavy, and tired.

Yet deep within, almost without light,

a small pure spark remained.

And it whispered — not to wake her,

only to see her, only to know:

“Yes, you’re tired.

Yes, you’ve given all you had.

Rest now — it’s allowed, it’s yours.

There’s nothing to fix, nothing to change —

just breathe, at last,

in quiet, for yourself.”

Understanding

Years passed, and now she saw —

dragons never truly rest.

They will always ask her to breathe for them,

to quench their fire and bear their sea.

Once she believed: “If I calm them — it will end,

if I breathe for them — maybe there’ll be peace.”

But every calm she offered, every touch and every tear,

only fed the flame.

And now she knows, with a clear and quiet heart:

there’s no use soothing what refuses to change.

So she said to herself:

“I will no longer carry everyone’s fire.

Their fire — is theirs.

My light — is mine.

From here —

each shall carry their own.

And I will guard, at last,

my breath.”

Rebirth

At dawn she rose — soft and bright,

from weariness blossomed a new breath.

Her wings still burned, but with good fire,

the kind that shines — not scorches.

She did not flee, nor tried to hide,

only allowed herself to glow again.

She walked forward, quiet steps,

free from the weight of others.

Behind her, the dragon still breathed smoke,

and she only watched — unafraid.

For she knew, deep within, the simple truth:

she was not born to soothe the world —

she was born to choose herself.