Why feeling it all is the real path home to yourself.
As a woman on a path of self-discovery you may have come across the places and spaces that promise realigned chakras, fast-track enlightenment or eternal bliss. My own explorations into such places and spaces led me to know the truth that is being deeply, unapologetically alive, in all our chaos and tenderness, to fully feel the depths of longing and grief, the immensity of joy, and everything in between, that is more sacred than any polished performance of spirituality.
My own path to feminine embodiment didn’t arrive in a perfectly curated Instagram moment. It unfolded in the trenches. It revealed itself slowly, like roots finding their way through the dark. It cracked me open, over and over again, and it still does. But I’ve learned how to navigate the mess. I’ve learned that the mess is sacred. That the pain, the rage, the ache, the desire, all of it, is part of the holy pulse that moves through us when we stop trying to escape ourselves.
There is an energetic pulse of holiness that lives in our bones, a fierce, soft, wild force that roars through you in grief and whispers to you in the quiet. Whilst we can be inspired, guided and mentored – all of which an important part of this path – we do not need to idolise or worship anything or anyone outside of ourselves. This sacred aliveness rises when we awaken our willingness to feel and remember our wildness.
And for so many of us, especially the cycle breakers, this remembering isn’t a gentle awakening. It’s a rebellion. It’s a reckoning. It’s a sacred vow to no longer abandon yourself just to make others comfortable.
To the women who have held generations of silence in their throats…
To the ones who’ve carried the emotional weight for everyone but themselves…
To the ones who feel too much and have been told they are “too sensitive” or “too much”…
I see you.
You are not broken. You are breaking through.
This is what the high-vibe, love-and-light world often overlooks: the wildness. The realness. The sacred mess of it all.
It doesn’t teach you that the deepest healing often looks like lying on the floor with tears in your ears and still, somehow, knowing it’s holy. That the most profound embodiment might arrive not in ecstasy, but in finally allowing yourself to be present with your grief. With your anger. With your longing.
The truth is, your body doesn’t want to be transcended. It wants to be felt. Honoured. Held.
I spent years trying to bypass the hard stuff. Trying to mantra my way out of discomfort. But the only way home was through the body. Through the breath. Through the ache. Through the pleasure. Through the still, quiet knowing in my belly that said: this is sacred, too.
My body has become my altar. My emotions, the incense. My breath, the prayer.
When I began to honour every part of me, the wild, the soft, the numb, the ecstatic, I stopped trying to fix myself and started feeling. And in that feeling, I found truth. I found power. I found a sensual, intuitive current that connects me to the Earth, to the cosmos, to the women who came before me and the ones still finding their way.
This is not about being positive all the time.
It’s about being present.
It’s about letting the waves move through you.
It’s about trusting that nothing within you is wrong or too much.
You don’t need to be fixed. You just need to be felt. Fully, fiercely and without apology.
So if you’re in a season of grief, rage, confusion, numbness, you belong here.
If you’ve outgrown the shiny spiritual spaces and crave something deeper, truer, more embodied, you belong here.
If you’re a cycle breaker with a heart that’s tired but fierce, you belong here.
If you’re ready to stop bypassing your body and start listening to her, you are so welcome here.
This isn’t about doing more.
It’s about becoming more you.
Because being deeply alive in your body, in your truth, in your sacred wildness, that is the most powerful spiritual act you will ever commit.