It’s Freya’s Day, B*tch: Channeling the Goddess Who Actually Deserves a Whole Week
Let’s set something straight real quick: Friday isn’t named after your boss’s casual blazer or some cute alliteration in a sales email. It’s not “Finance Friday” or “Fitness Friday” or even “Freaky Friday” (though Freya wouldn’t totally hate that one).
No.
Friday is Freya’s Day—and I’m convinced most of us are doing it completely wrong.
Because Freya? She was not the type to coast into the weekend in sad leggings, sipping lukewarm coffee and texting a walking red flag out of boredom. She wouldn’t be doom-scrolling her way through existential dread. She’d be dancing barefoot on the bones of her exes and seducing fate itself.
In Norse mythology, Freya reigns as the goddess of love, sex, war, beauty, death, and sorcery—a job description so stacked it makes modern “girlbossing” look like child’s play. She’s equal parts siren and general, sorceress and sovereign. And if that sounds like a contradiction? Good. Freya is here to remind you that you are allowed to be many things. Messy, magical, moody, magnificent—all at once.
So who is she, really?
Freya’s the kind of divine force who rides a chariot pulled by giant cats and wears a falcon-feather cloak that lets her fly between worlds. She’s also the first to master seiðr, an ancient Norse magic so powerful even Odin had to learn it from her. (Yes, the Allfather had to humble himself and ask a woman for mystical training. We are so here for it.)
She presides over Fólkvangr, her own elite version of the afterlife, where half of the honored dead go—not just to Valhalla, thank you very much. That’s right. Freya doesn’t just get the lovers. She gets the warriors, too.
And yet, despite all her glory, she's often reduced to “that sexy goddess from Thor comics” or slapped on some cottagecore aesthetic without any of the edge. Freya is not soft-focus femininity. She’s glamour with grit. She cries golden tears, not because she's fragile, but because her grief is alchemical. She turns sorrow into treasure, longing into power. Show me a therapist who can do that.
So what would Freya actually do—if she were living this very Friday in your body, with your schedule, and your questionable group chat?
She wouldn’t ask permission. She wouldn’t wait for the “right moment.” She’d take the damn moment, light it on fire, and walk through it in stilettos or well-worn Docs (dealer’s choice). Freya wouldn’t hide her pleasure to seem more “palatable.” She’d command a room with her presence and leave the insecure trembling in her wake.
She’d tell you to stop apologizing for wanting what you want. She’d remind you that your intuition is not just valid—it’s divine. And she'd laugh—actually laugh—if you told her you were shrinking yourself for the comfort of people who can barely look you in the eye.
If you want to honor Freya today—and you should, because she’s everything—don’t just light a candle and call it a vibe. Channel her. Become her. Even if just for one delicious, rebellious, unapologetic day.
Wear something that makes you feel like a spell. Whisper your desires into your coffee like you're enchanting it. Make pleasure your ritual, power your perfume, and boundaries the velvet rope around your divine energy. Cry if you need to. Laugh too loud. Take up space. Let your magic leak out everywhere.
Freya never asked to be liked. She demanded to be remembered. So go ahead—make this Friday the kind of day the old gods would toast to. One where your heart is open, your will is sharp, and your vibe is just a little too much for small minds.
Because Freya wouldn’t just celebrate the weekend.
She’d conquer it.
How Feminism Ruined Femininity (and Why I’m Taking It Back)
Let’s get one thing clear before I get canceled in three languages: I’m not anti-feminist. I’m anti-confusion. Somewhere between “burn the bras” and “boss bitch your way to burnout” femininity got shoved into a dusty corner like your grandma’s lace doilies—and not in a cute vintage way.
What used to be sacred, powerful, and intuitive got branded weak, regressive, or internalized patriarchy. And honestly? That’s not it.
The Original Feminist Vibe Check
Remember when feminism was about voting, not dying in childbirth, and being allowed to have a credit card or own property without a husband-slash-overlord? Those were the days. The first and second waves weren’t anti-femininity—they were pro-agency. These women weren’t trying to be men. They just didn’t want to be legally classified as decorative houseplants.
But fast-forward to modern feminism, and suddenly we’re all supposed to be high-achieving, hyper-independent, emotionally bulletproof, and allergic to lace. Cool story, but not everyone wants to be a CEO with no nervous system.
When Soft Became Stupid
We’ve been taught that to be taken seriously, we have to shut down our softness. Harden up. Toughen up. Man up. But here’s the thing: softness is not weakness. It’s an act of resistance in a world that rewards emotional numbness.
Softness used to be sacred. Now it’s seen as a liability. Crying? Weak. Nurturing? Oppressed. Wearing pink? Brainwashed. Baking a damn casserole? Are you even a feminist?! Miss me with that logic.
Masculine Mimicry ≠ Empowerment
Plot twist: you don’t become powerful by playing by the rules of the very system you’re trying to escape. But here we are, stuck in the “if you can’t beat ’em, become them” energy. Hustling, grinding, suppressing, competing. We didn’t dismantle the system—we just learned to play by its rules. Be louder. Hustle harder. Compete more. Swallow your feelings. Win at all costs. Look like a girl, work like a man, bring home the bacon and never let ‘em see you sweat.
That’s not empowerment. That’s exhaustion in sensible shoes.
Femininity isn’t weak—it just doesn’t bow to capitalist productivity culture. So instead of integrating it, society labeled it extra, frivolous, and outdated. The joke’s on them, though—because feminine energy isn’t going anywhere. She’s just been in exile, sharpening her nails.
Equality Got Confused With Erasure
We asked for a seat at the table, and were told we had to chop off our softness, ditch our skirts, and lower our voices to get it. That’s not equality. That’s assimilation. Equality shouldn’t mean becoming a man in lipstick—it should mean bringing everything we are to the table and being respected for it.
The worst part? The pendulum swing made women police each other. Suddenly, if you love homemaking, wear lipstick, or talk about your moon cycle, you’re not “woke” enough. Internalized misogyny in a crop top. Cute.
The Return of the Sacred
But here’s the good news: the pendulum is swinging back.
We’re seeing the slow, delicious rebellion of women reclaiming femininity on their own damn terms. Not for approval, not for tradition—but because their bodies, hearts, and spirits are starving for it. The rise of divine feminine energy, cyclical living, sensuality practices, slow rituals, and softness isn’t a trend—it’s a collective exhale.
Femininity isn’t dead. She’s just been buried under decades of shame and survival. And now? Now she’s coming home.
Turns out, being a woman isn’t a problem to solve. It’s a magic to remember. Softness. Pleasure. Slowness. Intuition. Sensuality. Rest. Ritual. Cycles. Community. Beauty. The Divine. The messy, magical, tender power that lives in our bones.
Femininity Myths We Need to Torch (Get the Matches)
1. “Femininity is just for straight cis women.”
Wrong. Femininity is an energy, not a costume. Anyone can embody it. Men can be incredibly nurturing.
2. “If you like pretty things, you’re shallow.”
Pretty isn’t the problem. Patriarchy’s inability to value it is.
3. “Femininity = submission.”
Nope. Femininity is receptive, not passive. And she can say no with a smile that cuts like a dagger.
4. “Real feminists don’t care about looks.”
False. You can smash the patriarchy in a silk robe and a smoky eye if that’s your vibe.
5. “Femininity is outdated.”
Tell that to the moon. She’s been cycling in power since forever.
10 Things That Are Feminine AF (and Not a Single One Is Weak)
Crying – Releasing emotion through tears is literally one of the healthiest, most cathartic things you can do. You know what’s weak? Emotional constipation.
Saying “no” without explaining yourself – Boundaries = self-respect.
Resting – Rest is resistance. Especially in a world that equates worth with output. A nap is a sleepy “fuck you” to grind culture.
Making your space beautiful – Beauty is soul nourishment. Whether it’s altars, flower arrangements, or just lighting a damn candle—curating beauty is an act of sacred reverence, not vanity.
Being intuitive – That gut feeling? That’s ancient wisdom. Femininity whispers, and the brave listen.
Caring deeply – We live in a time where apathy is armor. To care? To feel? To love fiercely? Radical.
Being sensual without being sexual – Femininity knows the difference. And it doesn’t perform for anyone’s approval.
Moving slow – Slow isn’t lazy. Slow is intentional. Slow is sacred.
Creating life—in any form – Yes, babies. But also ideas, art, gardens, communities. Femininity births. That’s divine AF.
Holding contradictions – You can be wild and grounded, soft and strong, nurturing and fierce.
Final Thoughts (And a Little Call to Arms)
Let’s be clear—feminism didn’t set out to ruin femininity. But some interpretations of it? Some waves, some voices, some attempts at equality that confused sameness with liberation? Yeah, they did some damage. The truth? Feminism tried to free us—but it didn’t always know what to do with our softness, our sensuality, our cyclical magic.
So no, I’m not trying to go backward. I’m not romanticizing oppression. I’m saying we deserve a version of femininity that’s ours. On our terms. Unapologetic. Unfiltered. Unbothered.
You want to reclaim your softness? Your sensuality? Your cyclical nature? Your rose petals, your moon water, your tears, your sacred rage?
Do it. That’s the most feminist thing you can do.
And here’s a truth no one seems ready to admit: even if they can’t always name it—or even recognize it—men are starving for true femininity. Not the polished performance, not the submissive script, not the Instagrammable trophy vibes. That’s what they’ve been told to want. But it’s not what feeds them. I will address this topic in a separate blog.
APRIL ENERGY READING: MOVE THROUGH YOUR FEAR & LIGHT THE DAMN MATCH
April’s vibe? Tender and electric. Sweet and savage. This month, Spirit isn’t just whispering — it’s handing you the torch and daring you to burn down the illusions that keep you small.
Here’s what came through in the cards:
(Not telling — you’ve got to read on. Suspense, babe.)
Oracle message: “Move Through Your Fear.”
Let’s peel back the layers of this cosmic soul story:
6 of Cups: A Smoke Signal From the Past You Buried
April kicks off with a nostalgic gut-punch — the 6 of Cups shows up like a smoke signal from your younger self, asking: remember who the hell you were before the world started dimming your light? This isn't a “let’s wallow in the past” moment. It’s a go back and get your magic mission.
This card calls you to reclaim the joy, the weirdness, the raw emotional roots that still hum beneath all the noise. The art you never made. The dream you shelved. The version of you that felt alive before shame showed up with a checklist.
Ask it:
✨ What did I abandon to fit in?
✨ What still haunts me in the best way?
7 of Cups: A Wild Mirage of Maybes
Next, we stumble into the 7 of Cups — aka the fantasy funhouse. Endless options. Glittering distractions. So many shiny things that might be the thing... but also might just be a trap wrapped in dopamine.
You’re standing in a vortex of possibility — but here’s the catch: not every door is meant for you. Some of them are just dressed-up detours. You already know which one’s calling you. The one that makes your stomach flip and your heart race and your logic scream “that’s risky.” Yeah. That one.
Ask it:
✨ What am I pretending not to want?
✨ Which option feels like truth — not just comfort?
Ace of Wands: Strike the Match
And then, boom. The Ace of Wands enters like a cosmic ignition switch. The spark is here. It’s raw, it’s hot, and it doesn’t come with a manual.
You don’t need a 12-step plan right now — you need nerve. That whisper that’s been echoing in your chest? It's real. The Ace doesn’t care if you’re ready — it just asks if you’re willing to light the damn match.
This is your sign. Go write the thing. Start the project. Send the risky text. Take the step that scares you and thrills you at the same time.
Ask it:
✨ What’s the fire I keep trying to smother?
✨ What would I do if I didn’t need it to be perfect?
The Wheel: Spin or Be Spun
And underneath it all? The Wheel. Oh, babe — fate’s got its hands on the dial.
This card doesn’t ask for control. It asks for surrender with style. Life is shifting. Cycles are closing. Karma’s collecting its receipts. But don’t get it twisted — this isn’t about luck. It’s about alignment. The more you trust the movement, the more magic meets you.
So stop waiting for the “right moment.” The Wheel turns either way. You can ride it… or you can get dragged.
Ask it:
✨ Where is life trying to move me forward, but I keep resisting?
✨ What happens if I trust the plot twist?
Oracle Message: Move Through Your Fear
The final mic drop from Spirit? Move. Through. Your. Fear.
Not around it. Not when it's convenient. Not once you feel “ready.” Right now. With the shaky voice and the bubble guts and the wild hope that it might just work.
Fear is the doorman to your next life. You want it? Walk through.
Journal Prompts for the Real Ones
What version of me have I buried that wants resurrection?
Which fantasy am I chasing just to avoid the real risk?
What does my fire want to do — and what keeps me caging it?
If I believed in divine timing, how would I show up differently right now?
Mini Ritual: Fear Release + Fire Spark
Light a candle — any size, any color. Just let it burn.
Write down every fear that’s been tripping you up. No editing.
Burn that list (safely — I’m not trying to manifest a house fire).
Say out loud: “Fear is not the boss of me.”
Then do one bold thing that your future self will thank you for.
This month isn’t asking you to have it all figured out. It’s asking you to show up anyway. To walk toward the spark. To flirt with your fear. To trust that what’s meant for you can find you — but only if you stop hiding.
April wants your fire.
Let it burn.
Synchronicity: Like Quantum Physics and Spirituality Had a Baby
Those “WTF Just Happened?” Moments the Universe Keeps Dropping Like Easter Eggs
You ever have one of those moments where reality pulls a fast one on you? You’re thinking about someone you haven’t seen since Lollapalooza ‘91 and—bam—they pop up in your inbox. Or you’re stuck in traffic, questioning your life choices, when a license plate in front of you says STAYCALM.
Welcome to synchronicity—those mind-bending, totally unexplainable moments when the universe pops up like a late-night rerun that hits way too close to home. It’s like if quantum physics and spirituality got drunk, hooked up at a Smashing Pumpkins concert, and had a beautiful, weird baby.
WTF Is Synchronicity?
Back in the day, Jung—the guy doing shadow work before it was trending—called it “synchronicity”: those eerie little moments that don’t technically connect, but sure as hell feel like they do.
It’s not just random. It’s personal. Like the universe is curating content just for you.
Think: Spotify, but instead of music, it's moments that slap you right in the psyche.
Quantum Physics Enters the Chat
Science doesn’t usually play nice with woo. But quantum physics? It’s the rebel. The punk kid at the back of class lighting up a cigarette and muttering, “Reality is an illusion, man.”
We’re talking:
Particles that are in two places at once
Stuff that doesn’t exist until you look at it
Two things connected across space like psychic twins
Basically, the more you look at the nature of reality, the more it starts to look like your stoner friend Kyle was onto something all along.
Actual “You Can’t Make This Shit Up” Moments
Let’s talk about the good stuff—those moments that make you look around like you’re being punk’d by the universe:
You’re spiraling about money, and someone randomly Cash Apps you for the drinks you forgot you covered at Happy Hour last Thursday.
You think, “I should call my sister,” and your TV freezes on the word “SISTER.”
You ask for a sign and see a black crow, a heart-shaped rock, and a sticker that says “YOU ARE EXACTLY WHERE YOU NEED TO BE” all before lunch.
These aren’t glitches. They’re breadcrumbs. Cosmic nudges. The universe saying, “Hey, I see you. And no, you’re not crazy.”
Okay But… What Do You Do With This?
Pause. Don’t just scroll past it like it’s a cringey Facebook memory. Feel it.
Zoom Out. What were you just thinking? What were you wrestling with? The universe responds to your energy.
Write It Down. Start a Synchronicity Log. Bonus points for sarcasm and doodles.
Play Along. Follow the thread. Say yes to the coffee invite. Pull a tarot card. Google that weird phrase you overheard at the gas station.
Why It Hits Different Now
If you’re Gen X, like me, we grew up watching institutions crumble, flipping between MTV and VH1, and learning how to laugh through chaos. So yeah, we’re skeptics. But we also know magic when we see it.
Synchronicity isn’t about blind faith. It’s about deep recognition. Pattern. Resonance. It’s the universe looking you dead in the eye and saying, “You paying attention now?”
Final Thought: Reality Might Be Weirder Than You, and That’s Saying Something
So when synchronicity shows up—don’t shrug it off. Light a candle. Raise an eyebrow. Whisper "holy shit" with reverence and gratitude. Because whether it’s quantum mechanics or spiritual mechanics, something out there is vibing with you. And honestly? That’s pretty dope.
True Power is Self-Control: Energies to Anchor Your Strength
We live in a world that praises the loudest voice in the room. The boldest comeback. The most dominant presence. As a Gen X'er, this is in our DNA.
But here’s something I’ve learned — often the hard way:
Real power isn’t loud. It’s self-control.
It's knowing how to hold your energy without flinging it everywhere like a monkey with their steaming feces. It's knowing when to speak and when silence is the sharpest sword you’ve got. It’s emotional discipline — not suppression, but discernment.
And it’s been the most liberating shift in my personal growth journey.
My Turning Point: Saying Less, Holding More
There was a version of me that believed I had to explain myself to be understood. That speaking more made me look strong, that arguing back meant I wasn’t being walked over.
I’d burn my energy trying to prove my point — overthinking texts, typing out paragraphs, replaying conversations in my head. Sound familiar?
But at some point… I started feeling tired. Not just physically — energetically. I was bleeding power — like a thousand paper cuts to my soul, each one sharper than the last, until I was standing in an energetic puddle of my own undoing.
So I tried something different. I started saying less. Holding more. Observing more than reacting. And at first? It felt unnatural. Like I was letting people "win." But it wasn’t about them — it was about reclaiming me.
The more I embraced silence, the louder my presence became.
I stopped justifying myself. Stopped over-explaining. Stopped talking myself out of my own knowing. And I could feel the shift — in my body, in my nervous system, in my energy field. In my relationships.
I had more clarity. More peace. More power. Saying less gave me more. More space to listen to my intuition. More energy to pour into what actually matters.
Now, I don’t rush to respond. I don’t fight to be understood. I don’t react on command. I choose my energy. I protect my peace. And that, my loves, is a whole frequency.
Energies to Work With for Embodied Power
Shadow of the Inner Tyrant
This inner archetype shows up when I’m triggered — that urge to clap back, dominate the convo, or "win" an argument.
How I work with it:
- I sit with the question: “What part of me is afraid right now?”
- I invoke Lilith energy — not to explode, but to walk away rooted in my worth.
New Moon Energy
Every new moon, I reset my boundaries. I realign with my why.
My ritual:
- I write one intention: “My energy is mine to command.”
- I light a black candle and sit in stillness — not doing, just being.
Solar Plexus Chakra
When I started choosing silence, I had to rebuild my relationship with confidence — not performative confidence, but internal strength.
Support tools I love:
- Solar plexus breathwork (inhale into the belly, exhale with a slow hum)
- Citrine on my altar
- Daily mantra: “My calm is my strength.”
Autumn Energy
Autumn is the season that taught me to release. The trees don’t argue — they just let go. And so can we.
Simple practice:
- I take barefoot walks and literally imagine my stress falling off me like leaves.
- I journal what I’m releasing: “I release the need to prove myself. I return to stillness.”
Final Word: Stillness Is a Spell
Self-control isn’t about bottling things up. It’s about learning to hold yourself — even in the heat. Especially in the heat.
It’s mastery. It’s energy sovereignty. And it’s how you stop living in reaction mode and start living in ritual. Because your peace is sacred. Your silence is spellwork. And your true power? It never begs to be seen — it radiates.
The following is what I repeat to myself multiple times per day, and is included in my Mind Movie that I watch morning and night without fail:
I have sovereignty over my own energy.
Only what is for my highest good may enter my field.
All else is returned to its source with love.
Cosmic Confidence Boost
We’ve got a whole orange situation happening here? That’s some fiery, sacral-chakra, creative, go-getter energy right there. The universe is screaming a theme at us.
Gratitude for the Past (Intuitive Whispers Oracle)
The past may have been a wild ride, but guess what? You made it. And now, with all this orange energy around, the universe is basically handing you a gold star and saying, "Be grateful, but also—keep that fire burning." Orange is the color of passion, creativity, and bold moves, so whatever lessons you’ve learned, it’s time to channel them into something fresh and exciting.
The Cosmic Egg (Divine Feminine Oracle)
An orange Cosmic Egg? That’s like the universe’s way of saying, “Hey, you’re incubating something BIG.” This isn’t just a casual transformation—it’s a fiery, sacral-charged, ready-to-hatch new beginning. Your creative and intuitive energy is through the roof right now, so don’t sit on those ideas. Trust the process, but also know when to crack the shell and get moving.
The Lion (Power Animals Oracle)
Orange Lion energy? This is not the time for playing small. The lion is already fierce, but paired with the color orange? That’s full-on unstoppable confidence mode. Think of it as the universe handing you a crown and saying, “Wear it, rule it, own it.” You’re being called to step into your power with courage and charisma—and maybe a little dramatic flair. Walk in like you belong there, because you do.
22 Intuition (Numerology Deck)
Intuition + the color orange = a highly charged creative awakening. The number 22 is all about building something meaningful, and with this fiery hue surrounding you, your gut instincts are practically glowing with wisdom. Your sacral chakra (home of emotions, creativity, and gut feelings) is lit up like a Karen at customer service. Translation? Follow the pull. That random idea? That weird dream? That “I should totally do this” moment? DO IT. Orange isn’t the color of hesitation—it’s the color of movement.
Final Vibes:
With all this orange energy, this spread is practically screaming: Create. Move. Express. Lead. You’re being called to step up, trust yourself, and take action on something that truly matters to you. Whether it’s a personal passion, a career move, or a bold life shift, you have the confidence, creativity, and courage to make it happen.
So, go forth, sacral-chakra warrior, and light up the world with your bold, bad-ass, orange-glowing greatness.
What the Hell Is Shadow Work—and How Do You Know If You're Even Doing It Right?
Let’s just get this out of the way: shadow work sounds like something out of a moody vampire fanfic. And honestly? It kind of is. Except instead of making out with a sexy, brooding immortal, you’re forced to confront your inner gremlins, unpack your childhood trauma, and admit that maybe—just maybe—you’re the one being a little toxic sometimes.
Welcome to the wild ride of shadow work: where healing gets messy, self-awareness comes with some ego death, and personal growth sometimes looks like crying on the floor next to three empty coffee cups (or White Claw cans) and a tarot card you don’t fully understand.
Let’s break it down. No fluff, no fake-deep Instagram quotes. Just the truth, with a salty rim.
Okay, So What Is Shadow Work?
Shadow work is basically the process of dragging your emotional baggage out from the dusty corners of your subconscious and saying, “Alright, what the fuck is in here?”
It’s the not-so-glamorous side of self-help. The part where you stop pretending you’re a ray of sunshine 24/7 and actually look at the parts of yourself you’ve shoved into the metaphorical junk drawer. You know—the anger, the jealousy, the people-pleasing, the passive aggression, the tendency to lose your shit when someone chews too loudly.
The “shadow” is all the stuff you’ve been taught is unacceptable. And instead of continuing to bury it like a cat covering a turd in the litter box, shadow work says: Let’s dig that shit up. Let’s look at it. Let’s heal it.
Spoiler Alert: Your Shadow Isn’t a Villain
Hot take: those parts of you you think are “bad”? They’re probably just hurting.
Your procrastination? Might be your nervous system begging for a damn break.
That envy you hate feeling? Could be pointing to a dream you’ve been too scared to own.
Your anger? Might be trying to defend your boundaries that you keep letting people bulldoze.
The shadow isn’t evil. It’s misunderstood. And it’s been screaming into the void for your attention. Shadow work is finally listening.
“But How Do I Know If I’m Doing It Right?”
Ah yes, the classic question from the overachieving part of you that wants a gold star for healing.
Look, shadow work isn’t a BuzzFeed quiz. There’s no “You got: Fully Integrated Goddess of the Void!” result screen. But here are some signs that you're not just spiritually doom-scrolling—you’re actually doing the damn thing:
1. You start noticing your triggers before you spiral
Someone pisses you off, and instead of launching into a rage blackout or emotional shutdown, you pause and go, “Huh. That hit a nerve. Why tho?” Growth.
2. You stop blaming everyone else for your shit
Instead of pointing fingers, you start asking, “What is this showing me about myself?” Ugh, accountability. Rude—but necessary.
3. You feel kinda gross, kinda free
Shadow work is not a spa day. It’s more like emotional CrossFit. You might feel raw, tired, and over it—but also oddly empowered.
4. You’re kinder to yourself (finally)
You stop trash-talking your own mind like it’s your worst ex. You start saying things like, “It makes sense I reacted that way.” Look at you. Healing.
5. Your relationships shift (or implode—both are valid)
Turns out, when you stop being a people-pleasing doormat or projecting your unprocessed wounds onto your friends, things change. Some people will vibe with the new you. Others might nope out. Let ‘em.
Reminder: You’re Not Gonna Do This Perfectly
This isn’t a straight line. It’s a hot, chaotic spiral. You’ll think you’ve healed something—and then boom, Mercury retrograde shows up with a remix. Doesn’t mean you’re failing. It means you’re human.
Shadow work isn’t about fixing yourself. It’s about getting real. About owning the whole damn mess that is you—and loving yourself anyway. Especially the messy parts. Especially the parts you were taught to hide.
You’re Doing It Right If It Sucks a Little
If you’re feeling raw, real, and a little wrecked—but also clearer, braver, and more you? You’re on the right track, babe.
Keep going. Cry in the tub. Cuss at your journal. Light the candle. Feel your feelings. And then get up and live your life—one shadowy, shining step at a time.
Welcome to Agartha, Babe (You’ve Been Here the Whole Time)
They say there’s a secret world under the crust of this magnificent but tired Earth. Not hell, not lava—something better. Golden cities. Crystal libraries. Enlightened beings sipping mushroom tea and waiting for us surface-dwellers to get our shit together.
It’s called Agartha. Hollow Earth theory, if you’re feeling tinfoil chic.
But here’s the twist: I don’t think you have to dig through Antarctica or decode Admiral Byrd’s diary to get there. I think you carry Agartha in your bones.
Yeah, you. The one in the thrifted leather jacket with eyeliner like war paint and a closet full of shapeshifter selves. You're already halfway underground.
Agartha is inner earth. The beneath. The part of you that the world told you to lock away because it was too much, too weird, too loud, too soft. It’s your personal underworld, and sis—it’s not a pit of despair. It’s a palace.
Descent is a Look
We’ve all got that surface self. The curated. The filtered. The one that thinks they know which parts of the psyche are safe for daylight.
But style? Real style? That lives in the shadows. The way you dress when you’re not trying to impress, just trying to feel true. Maybe it's a lace slip with combat boots. Maybe it's a jacket that looks like you wrestled it off a drunken lounge singer. Doesn’t matter—what matters is how it feels.
Agartha fashion isn’t about trends. It’s about resonance. Echo. Memory. The vibe of “I’ve met myself in the dark and came back with eyeliner as sharp as my wit.”
The Hole Is the Whole
If the surface world is all light and rules and social scripts, Agartha is the crack in the mask. The dream within the dream. The sacred recess where you remember who you were before you were taught to conform.
Exploring Agartha means styling from the inside out. Let your trauma dress itself. Let your shadow pick the playlist. Let the version of you that got buried under politeness and productivity come out in fishnets and feathers and a fuck-off stare.
It’s Not Escapism, It’s Excavation
Don’t get it twisted—we’re not running away to fantasy here. We’re digging. Peeling back the surface layers. Finding freedom in the catacombs of the soul. Sometimes the journey looks like shadow work. Sometimes it looks like vintage velvet and snake rings. Same energy.
And when someone asks, “Where’d you get that look?”
Just smile and say, “Underground.”
Page of Pentacles, 4 of Swords, 3 of Swords & The Hanged Man — A Tarot Check-In
Lately, I’ve been feeling this undeniable pull—like I’m standing at the edge of something new, but I don’t quite have the clarity to leap. So, I pulled some cards. Just four. And they landed with a quiet kind of thunder:
Page of Pentacles. Four of Swords. Three of Swords.
And peeking from the back of the deck like a whisper impossible to ignore: The Hanged Man.
Page of Pentacles: Where It All Begins
There’s a part of me that’s eager. Curious. Ready to start again—maybe in a small way, but it still counts. The Page of Pentacles reminds me that I don’t have to have it all figured out to begin. I just have to be willing to learn. Willing to walk the spiral path, even if I don’t know exactly where it’s headed.
Right now, I’m planting seeds. Lots of them. Some are creative. Some are emotional. Some might not sprout for a while, but I’m starting to trust the soil I’m growing in.
Four of Swords: The Sacred Pause
After that first spark comes the exhale. This card is such a necessary reminder: rest isn’t lazy—it’s holy. I’ve been craving silence. Not just quiet around me, but that deep kind of stillness that lets your nervous system, and your chocolate starfish, unclench.
I’m realizing that recovery isn’t just from chaos or heartbreak—it can also come after growth. Even positive shifts can leave us feeling raw. And that’s okay.
Three of Swords: The Ache That Still Echoes
This one hit hard. I didn’t want to admit that my heart is still carrying some shrapnel. Old grief, unspoken disappointment, the ache of letting go (even when it’s right).
But I also know the Three of Swords in the Light Seer’s deck isn’t just about pain. It’s about feeling it to release it. Letting the heart bleed so it can heal in real time. Some wounds don’t disappear, but they stop defining you once they’re fully acknowledged.
Reminds me of a J. Mike Fields post I saw on Facebook the other day, "Resist the urge to make yourself feel better. That is avoidance. Let yourself feel bad, and it will pass."
The Hanged Man: The Soul Surrender
The card that stayed hidden until I looked deeper. And of course, it’s the Hanged Man. The invitation to surrender. To let go of needing answers right now. To lean into the in-between.
This card feels like the real heartbeat of my reading. It’s not about fixing or forcing anything—it’s about seeing differently. About finding the beauty in the pause, and letting my whole perspective shift as I hang suspended in the unknown.
If You’re Here Too...
If you’re also somewhere between grief and growth, ambition and exhaustion—I see you. Maybe we’re not meant to rush this part. Maybe this is the space where something sacred starts to rewire. Where we rest. Where we feel. Where we begin again, slow and soft and true.
Here’s to trusting the process.
Even when it hurts.
Even when it’s quiet.
Even when we’re not sure what’s next.
The One Where Lilith Yelled at Me (With Love)
A 3-Card Spread with a back story.
I was brushing my teeth this morning and my Lilith necklace fell off my neck and went down the sink drain. I was able to retrieve it but felt it was definitely a call to pull some cards and see what Spirit was trying to tell me. This is what happened.
Card 1: The Tower
Something in your life is crumbling, and guess what? That’s sacred. Lilith doesn’t destroy what you need—she destroys what’s been holding you hostage. What needs to fall so you can finally breathe?
🜃 Reflection:
What structures, beliefs, or identities are no longer aligned with the real me?
Card 2: The Star
From the chaos, you rise. This card reminds you that healing is not a return to what was, but a re-creation of what can be. You’re stepping into your raw radiance now.
🜁 Reflection:
What truth is emerging from my healing process that wants to be honored?
Card 3: The Queen of Swords
This is the part where you stop apologizing and start articulating. Your truth is razor-sharp, earned, and divine. Wield it wisely, but don’t dull it for comfort.
🜂 Reflection:
Where do I need to speak up, cut cords, or reinforce a boundary?
Affirmation:
“I am not here to be soft and silent. I am here to rise, radiant and ruthless, in the full truth of who I am.”
Lilith: Demonized Diva or Divine Rebel?
Before Eve, There Was Drama
In the Alphabet of Ben Sira (a spicy little 10th-century Jewish text that reads like a mythological gossip column), Lilith shows up as Adam’s first wife. Unlike Eve—who, let’s be honest, got the raw end of the “made from rib” deal—Lilith was made from the same earth as Adam. Equal footing. Literally.
But when it came time for Adam to assert his "dominance" (read: missionary position forever), Lilith said, “I’m good, thanks,” and peaced out with all the flair of a woman who’s had just enough of your ego and your mud hut. She spoke the true name of God (because of course she did), sprouted wings, and flew off into the wilds.
Did God go after her? Nope. He just made Eve instead. Adam got a quieter model, and Lilith got centuries of slander.
From Free Woman to Baby-Thirsty Boogeywoman
After ghosting Eden, Lilith’s reputation tanked faster than a celebrity breakup on Twitter. She became the monster under the cradle—literally. In later Jewish folklore, Lilith is blamed for sudden infant death, male impotence, and basically every problem that could be solved by blaming a powerful woman.
Cue the talismans, amulets, and bedtime prayers designed to keep her away. Why? Because nothing terrifies fragile power structures more than a woman who says “no” and means it.
But Wait—Is That a Goddess Glow-Up?
Enter modern mystics, witches, feminists, and dark divine fan clubs who saw through the demon smear campaign and went, “Wait… this chick was awesome.” Instead of a baby-snatcher, they saw a woman who claimed autonomy, embraced her sexuality, and refused to submit.
In the modern era—especially within feminist spirituality and certain branches of occultism—Lilith has been reclaimed as a dark goddess, an archetype of raw feminine power. She's invoked in rituals, featured in tarot, and name-dropped in more feminist manifestos than you'd expect.
Some even tie her back to older Mesopotamian figures like Lilitu or Lamashtu—ancient female spirits with a complicated vibe. Yes, they were a bit demonic too, but you know how it is. Ancient history was messy.
So… Demon or Goddess? Or Both?
Here’s the twist: Maybe Lilith is both. Maybe she’s the shadow and the light, the curse and the cure. She’s been vilified, deified, blamed, worshipped, misunderstood, and reimagined. Honestly? She’s everything patriarchal systems were afraid women would become.
Which makes her kind of perfect.
Lilith in the Now – Candles, Charts, and Cult Followings
Modern Rituals: Witch, Please
Today, Lilith is thriving in sacred circles. She’s the patron saint of witches who wear black on purpose, don’t shave their legs unless they feel like it, and hex misogyny with one raised eyebrow.
You’ll find Lilith invoked in rituals that focus on reclaiming power, healing from patriarchal wounds, setting fierce boundaries, or embracing raw, unapologetic sensuality. Think candle magic, blood magic (yeah, that kind), full-moon rage burns, and wild dancing in your underwear while screaming your truth.
Altars to Lilith often include dark flowers, snakes (symbolic, not literal—unless your apartment allows exotic pets), red wine, obsidian, and anything that screams “I’m not here to be polite.” She's especially powerful in shadow work—the deep, messy kind of inner work that doesn’t wear glitter and light incense. Lilith doesn’t soothe you. She shows you what you’ve been suppressing and dares you to love it anyway.
Lilith in Astrology: The Bad Bitch in Your Birth Chart*
In astrology, there’s a point called Black Moon Lilith—not a planet, but a lunar apogee, representing the farthest point of the Moon’s orbit around Earth. Translation? It’s the cosmic point that shows where you’re most rebellious, sexual, and unwilling to compromise.
Your Lilith placement reveals where you throw off societal expectations, embrace your inner wildness, and might scare the hell out of people who think you should be “nice.” It’s the space where you refuse to submit.
Lilith in Aries? You won’t take orders from anyone.
Lilith in Scorpio? Sexy, psychic, and possibly plotting.
Lilith in Capricorn? You burn the system down strategically.
There’s also Dark Moon Lilith and Asteroid Lilith—because apparently one Lilith just wasn’t enough. (Classic.)
Pop Culture: The Glow-Up Continues
Lilith’s been creeping through pop culture like she never left. She shows up as:
Frasier’s ex-wife (yes, that Lilith)—cold, sharp, brilliant, and unbothered. A totally sanitized but still telling nod to her mythic name.
Supernatural’s Lilith—a child-demon with an attitude and zero chill. Not exactly flattering, but definitely fierce.
Lucifer (Netflix)—where she shows up as a charming, bisexual nightclub owner and absolute queen. Now that’s more like it.
In video games, comic books, even Dungeons & Dragons, where she’s depicted as a seductive and powerful archdevil. Apparently, even Hell can’t resist a good rebrand.
And don’t even get me started on how many goth bands, witchy shops, and dark-feminine perfume lines are named after her. She’s basically a vibe, a brand, and a whole mood.
Final Word: Lilith Doesn’t Need Your Labels
So—demon or goddess? Monster or muse? Honestly, Lilith couldn’t care less what you call her. She’s here for the ones who’ve been told they’re too much, too loud, too angry, too wild.
In truth, Lilith is all of the above. She’s shadow and sovereignty. Sin and sacredness. A mythic mirror for everyone who’s ever had to fight for their own damn voice.
So light a candle, cast your chart, cue the playlist—and channel your inner Lilith. Because if she taught us anything, it’s this:
You don’t have to stay where you’re not free.
Blessed, Boundaried & Battle-Ready
Divine Feminine Oracle Card Deck
Buckle up, babe, because this spread is serving spiritual glow-up, zero-tolerance-for-BS energy, and divine intervention with a side of warrior queen vibes. Let’s get into it:
Anandamayi Ma (The Joy-Permeated Mother) – The Chill Guru
This divine queen floats in like, “Why are you so stressed? Joy is an inside job, babe.” She’s basically telling you to stop waiting for external validation, a bank account upgrade, or the perfect relationship to be happy. You already are joy, you just forgot. Time to drop the drama, surrender to the divine, and remember that happiness isn't something Amazon Prime can deliver. You gotta cultivate it yourself.
Lilith (The Original Rebel) – The ‘I Do What I Want’ Queen
Ah, Lilith—ultimate "I’m not here to please you" energy. She walked out on Adam because she refused to be subservient, and she’s here to ask you: Where are you playing small? Where are you silencing yourself just to keep the peace? If you’ve been shrinking to fit someone else’s expectations, Lilith is throwing up a red flag and yelling, “Nope, we don’t do that here.” She’s the cosmic permission slip to be wild, independent, and fully in your power.
Catherine Labouré (The Miraculous) – Your Direct Line to the Divine Help Desk
Catherine is over here reminding you that miracles happen when you actually believe in them. She’s the divine hotline to Mary herself, so if you’ve been doubting whether Spirit’s got your back, this is your neon sign in flashing lights. Got a problem that feels impossible? Catherine is like, “Oh, ye of little faith, watch this.” Expect synchronicities, divine timing, and possibly some “WTF just happened?” moments in the near future.
Joan of Arc (The OG Warrior) – The ‘Not Today, Satan’ Energy
Ah yes, Joan of Arc, the armored-up, sword-wielding, zero time for nonsense badass. She’s the energy lingering at the back of the deck, which means you’re being called to trust yourself and take action, even if the haters don’t get it. People doubted her, betrayed her, and still—she held her ground. So if you’re feeling nervous about stepping into your purpose, Joan is here with her battle cry: “DO IT ANYWAY.”
The Bottom Line:
Your spirit team is not playing around right now. You are being called to:
✅ Be happy now, not “when” (Anandamayi Ma)
✅ Own your power and stop explaining yourself (Lilith)
✅ Trust that miracles are unfolding for you (Catherine Labouré)
✅ Stand firm in your truth, no matter who doubts you (Joan of Arc)
This is a major spiritual upgrade. You’re stepping into a phase where the old you—the one who hesitated, second-guessed, or played it safe—is getting evicted. The new you? Confident, in alignment, and fully aware that she is THAT girl.
So, tell me—are you ready to level up, reclaim your power, and let the miracles roll in? Because your guides sure as hell are.
The Witch Wound: Why You’re Afraid to Own Your Magic (and How to Fix It)
So, You Might Be a Witch—But You’re Low-Key Afraid of It
Ever felt like speaking your truth would get you metaphorically (or literally, once upon a time) burned at the stake? Ever hesitated before saying something spiritual, witchy, or intuitive in certain circles because you just knew some asshole would roll their eyes? So rude. Or maybe you’ve second-guessed charging for your tarot readings or energy work because somewhere deep down, it feels… unsafe or just wrong?
Congratulations, comrade. You might be dealing with a Witch Wound—an ancestral, societal, and past-life fear of persecution for embracing your power. And no, it’s not just imposter syndrome with an enigmatic aesthetic. This one runs deep.
WTF is the Witch Wound?
The Witch Wound is the collective trauma carried by intuitive, magical, and powerful beings due to centuries of witch hunts, oppression, and being told that "people like you" are dangerous, evil, or delusional. It’s the reason you get nervous talking about your spiritual path in certain spaces. It’s why some people hesitate to fully step into their power, even though their soul is practically SCREAMING, "This is what you’re meant to do!"
The Witch Wound is a survival instinct. Your ancestors—whether they were healers, herbalists, midwives, or they were spittin’ spells—learned the hard way that being too powerful could get them accused, exiled, or executed. And while society might not be throwing people in the fire these days, that fear is still alive in our collective subconscious. So, how might this show up in your life? Oh, let us count the ways.
Signs You Have a Witch Wound
You’re Afraid of Being Seen
You hold back on sharing your gifts, whether it’s tarot, astrology, or energy healing, because you don’t want to be judged. You keep your spiritual practice on the low-low—maybe only one or two trusted friends know anything about it. You fear what your family, partner, or co-workers would think if they knew how woo-woo you really are.
Because, once upon a time, being “too seen” meant serious consequences. So your subconscious is like, "Nope, let’s stay invisible. Thanks, I’ll pass."
You Downplay Your Power (Or Feel Unworthy of It)
You hesitate to call yourself a witch, intuitive, healer, or mystic because who am I to claim that title? You constantly second-guess your spiritual abilities, even though deep down you know you’re too legit to quit. You struggle to charge for your spiritual work because it feels “wrong” to profit from something sacred – a gift.
Hint: If you’ve ever felt like you need to prove yourself before you can “officially” step into your magic, that’s the Witch Wound talking.
You’re a Chronic People-Pleaser (Especially in Spiritual Spaces)
You avoid conflict like it’s an actual curse and would rather shrink than risk upsetting someone. You’ve been called “too much” or “too intense” and now you dim your light to keep people comfortable. You water down your beliefs or try to sound rational so people won’t think you’re “crazy.”
This comes from centuries of women and mystics being told to stay small, stay quiet, and not rock the boat—because those who did? They didn’t always make it.
You Fear Rejection or Being Labeled as “Bizarre”
You still have an instinctual fear that spirituality and/or witchcraft might be “bad” (thanks, religious conditioning). You feel nervous when talking about your magic around certain people (especially the ultra-religious ones). Or maybe you’ve been accused of being “demonic” or “delusional” at some point in your journey.
Witch trials didn’t really disappear—they just moved to the internet. But guess what? Other people’s fear doesn’t define you. That’s their journey.
You Struggle to Fully Step into Your Magic
You procrastinate on fully committing to your spiritual path, even though it calls to you. You feel like something is blocking you from embracing your gifts (spoiler: it’s fear). You’re waiting for “the right time” to show up as your full, magical self. Or maybe you aren’t even fully aware of it yet but there’s something tugging at your soul.
The right time is now. The world needs your magic. And the only thing standing in your way is the illusion of danger.
How to Heal the Witch Wound
Alright, now that we’ve called out the wound, how do we go about fixing it?
Recognize That You Are Safe
You are not in medieval Europe. Or Salem. No one is coming for you with torches. The world has changed, and you are allowed to exist, thrive, and be powerful af.
Repeat after me… “I am safe to be seen. I am safe to be powerful.”
Reclaim Your Power (Even When It Feels Scary)
Every time you speak your truth, share your gifts, stand in your power, and stop fucking apologizing for who you are...you heal not just yourself, but generations before and after you.
So, say it loud for the people in the back… “My power is sacred, and I embrace it fully.”
Find Your “Coven”
You are NOT meant to do this alone. Surround yourself with like-minded people who get it. Whether that’s an online group, a local circle, or just a couple of witchy friends. Community heals.
Now what are we going to do? That is correct…we will seek out safe spaces where we can be our genuine, magical selves.
Own Your Identity Without Fear
If you’re a witch, healer, intuitive, oracle, or any other spiritual badass—OWN IT. The more you claim your magic, the more you break the cycle of fear.
Recite this to yourself often… “I am powerful beyond measure, and I claim my magic with confidence.”
Do the Damn Thing
Want to start reading tarot professionally? Start an energy healing business? Write about witchcraft? (Hello. Hi.) Do it. The more you act in alignment with your power, the more the Witch Wound loses its grip. Of no less importance is the pure ecstatic energy rush you get from living authentically. You know? The kind of energy that makes your nether regions tingle? Yeah, you do.
Take one step today that embraces your magic, no matter how small.
Final Truth Bomb: You May Have Been Born for This
The Witch Wound is real, and you may be suffering from it, but your power is real too. The best way to heal this shit-show? Be unapologetically YOU. Zero fucks given. The world doesn’t need more people hiding in their shadows. It needs more magic-makers, truth-speakers, and light-bringers. And that includes you, you majestic little moonbeam. So go forth, my wild and witchy friend. The fire they tried to burn you with? That’s the same fire you’re rising from.