Manifesting Peace

Sometimes, I forget what I manifest. I work with the moon when I manifest, and during the last New Moon on January 29th, 2025, I manifested peace. I wanted peace in every aspect of my life. Peace in my job, with my kids, in my relationships, a whole-life peace.

I realized this as the Full Moon arrived yesterday. Sometimes, to receive what we ask for, certain things must go. My attachment caused me to ignore and hold on to things that were robbing me of peace and stealing my energy. Some things transformed because I could shift my perspective, while others were cut from me entirely.

I’ve met so many people along my path who have been hurt by love, or by love that was once present but then taken away. But when you reflect, how would your life look if that love had stayed? I realized that, despite the love I had, we were on different levels, different paths, and operating in different realms of existence. Had I stayed, my life would never have been full of peace; instead, it would have been filled with chaos and heartache.

I have an inner voice that tries to guide me. The frustrating part is that it isn’t loud. It’s calm, peaceful, and quiet. I need mental peace and a peaceful environment to hear it. Sometimes, I can tune out noisy places, but if the space I’m in causes anxiety, I know my mind is shifting into fight-or-flight. In that state, I cannot hear my inner voice.

I process things intensely and immediately. I let my hurricane of emotions rage so they can be released. I do not deny what I feel, but I try my best to control my actions. This week, I tried to hold on, then completely cut off communication. He did the same, which made it easier, even if it hurt immensely. During those moments, I embraced the little girl inside me. The one who felt abandoned. That’s where my attachment anxiety comes from.

My life has been nothing but chaos for 41 years. I turn 42 this year. That is more than enough chaos for one lifetime.

When I was with Aaron, it was mostly peaceful. We could meld into the safety of each other, and that peace allowed my nervous system to relax. I had never experienced such tranquility. I needed that experience to understand what peace even felt like. And when it left, I needed to reassure that little girl inside me she is loved and that peace will still be hers.

My new boundaries are all centered on peace. If you bring emotional chaos and imbalance into my world, you will be asked to leave. If you cannot face who you are and heal, grow, or love yourself fully, you will be asked to leave. To sit at my table, you must have first sat at your own inner table.

I have been through enough. I deserve friends and lovers who will meet and exceed me because I will never stop, not until I die. I will always challenge people to step into who they are and to love and accept every part of themselves. I will always challenge people to be better.

I am grateful that the fog lifted last night, allowing me to reflect on my actions and decisions over the past year. Today, I can breathe and think clearly, free from grief, free from anxiety.

Full of peace.

True Self-Love Comes Through Solitude

Cardin told me last week that he couldn’t understand why I was so upset because, in his view, genuine love takes years to develop. A huge part of me resisted that idea. I believe that when we come from a mutual space of self-love and completeness—with no dependency—we can truly love another person right away. But I was not coming from a place of true love and completeness within myself. I got caught up in believing that this last was finally real, that I had finally found the one.

Upon reflecting this morning, I realized that what I had experienced was not true love, but a dependency rooted in my deep need for connection. I also recognized that he could never have truly loved me either, as he was coming from a place of self-loathing and his own dependencies. Our connection, as beautiful as it was, was born not from genuine love and respect but from an attempt to fill something we felt was missing in each other’s lives. You cannot truly love another if you do not fully love yourself.

I now understand my purpose in this moment, and I know why I must embrace solitude. I feel a deep call to help others learn to love themselves, and this is a goal I am now pursuing with all my energy. But to truly guide others, I must first strengthen the bond I have with myself. I know solitude will be excruciating at times, but these are the moments in which I must nurture my own inner support and love. That way, when I enter my next union, it will come from a place of wholeness and not from a need for someone to fill something within me.

This has been a hard week, yet it has also been one of deep soul-searching and untangling from people who were draining me. I have filled pages and pages of my journal and had multiple breakdowns, but today, I feel free. My path is clearer, and I no longer feel sadness over what someone else is doing. I am free to work my magick, to create the life I desire, and to eventually help others on their own journeys toward self-love, self-acceptance, and living authentically as their complete selves during their time on this planet.

I’m not sure why I’ve felt the need to share everything I go through and experience. I think it stems from the fact that when I scroll through social media, I see so much pain. I see people struggling—to find themselves, to find purpose, to find meaning, to find love. The relationship I have with my inner world is now beautiful and strong, but it wasn’t always this way. I come from a past of deep self-loathing and abuse, both from myself and others. It took me a long time to reach this point, and while I still have a long journey ahead in many areas, I am excited for what’s to come. I hope my vulnerability and raw’ness inspires the same growth in whomever reads what I pour out.

A Sorrowed Frenzy

Last night was not a good night for me. My son needed to be rescued from some difficult circumstances, and my attachment got the best of me. I found myself reaching out, grasping at whatever connection I could get ahold of, grasping for answers, grasping for validation. All I ended up doing was prolonging my suffering.

I have a hard time with loss. Losing love, or more so, losing connection. This morning, I realized how my attachment was causing me to put pressure on the people I love. My kids, my partners, my friends. I saw how much I was wanting from another person instead of simply enjoying their presence.

Last night, my ego took control for a few hours, and I was not the best version of myself. I lost control and found myself wondering what was wrong with me, questioning why people eventually pull away. At first, I am fun and detached, but as time goes on, I start to rely on what others offer me. When that love fades, when that connection disappears, I spiral into a reckless frenzy of sorrow.

This morning, I realized I’ve just been trying to escape my pain, trying to ignore the fact that I am searching for something outside of myself. I do well on my own. I feel I have mastered solitude. I know how to entertain myself, how to take care of myself, how to love myself. But when I enter a relationship, I become needy.

I know I need connection. I know I need love. But I must be willing to let people love and connect with me in their own ways, not just in the ways I expect or demand them to. I don’t know what this world holds for me in terms of connection, but I do know that I will continue to know and love myself. I will continue to reflect and heal. One experience at a time.

Evening Revelations: Anxious Attachment

I’ve had a day of wonderful moments and difficulties, fueled by anxiety and my anxious attachment style and my conscious brain trying to make sense of my world right now. I’m realizing just how much I needed this heartbreak. When I initially declared, “Two years single!” I said it with anger—anger at all the men who had crossed my path and anger at myself for allowing them to get close enough to touch me. I didn’t go into it with a true purpose. Be single and alone was all that was in my mind.

The truth I am facing is that I needed someone to show me true love and care, only to walk away. I needed it so I could finally face the part of me that still needed healing. My anxious attachment.

As I spiraled today, songs and articles kept showing up in my feed, all centered on anxious attachment during a breakup. I checked off every symptom, and while it didn’t feel great, it shone a light on why I was spiraling. So, I started searching: How to heal anxious attachment after a breakup.

Surprisingly, there’s a wealth of information out there! One article, accompanied by videos, resonated deeply with me. It has put me on a path that I believe will finally start my healing journey.

We can resent the algorithms, AI, and the eerie feeling that our phones are “listening” to us, but sometimes they lead us exactly where we need to go. They also reveal what we’re obsessing over.

Right now, I feel such relief. I know the healing process will ebb and flow, but I finally have more tools to help me navigate it. For anyone struggling with this as I do, this has been the most helpful resource I’ve come across in a long time.

Connection

Last night, I was reflecting on why I feel the need to post so much when I go through heartache. I realized it’s my way of seeking connection—of trying to find meaning. When I talk aloud to people, I think more clearly and in turn I am able to come to revelations about why I am the way I am. Talking helps me grow as a person. I don’t have a support system in place for the heavy times, I don’t even have a support system for lighter and happier times, so I write my heart out to anyone who will listen or read.

When I’m in a relationship, I talk to my partner. That relationship becomes the only relationship I need. But when that relationship ends, I find myself in a space of extreme solitude. A space where I need someone I trust, yet there’s no one to turn to—no one to just pick up the phone and vent to, cry to, or lean on. There is no one there to help lift me back up. I know some people would say, “Just call!” but in that headspace, I don’t want to burden people I haven’t spoken to in months, or even years, with a blubbering call just because I’m hurting. So, I suffer alone. I always have.

I’m realizing that I need to build stronger connections, and I know this is where my current lesson lies. My goal this year is to cultivate genuine, healthy, friendships. I know I can handle my inner world, but I also know I need connection. That starts by giving people my time—by reaching out to those I love spending time with and fostering bonds that can grow into something stronger and more meaningful.

Tap Out

I have been thinking about my life and my heart more intensely over the past 12 hours than I have in an entire year. I am heartbroken—again. But this time, the pain is different. It feels different. I shared parts of myself in a way I never have before, only to be told they didn’t want a relationship.

When I am alone, I have moments of great loneliness, especially before I started loving myself. But that loneliness is nothing compared to the pain in my heart right now.

Cardin made a comment to me last night that was hard to hear. He said I get attached to people too quickly. If I look at it that way, Aaron and I were together for six months, friends for two to three months before that. The pain I feel is more than just losing a lover—I lost a best friend.

I have cut so many people out of my life over the past year—people who have violated my friendship, my body, my trust in some way or another. I wish I could leave this state, start fresh somewhere without memories lurking around every corner. This place haunts me now.

I feel like the Universe has been trying to push me into solitude for years. I lay down my fight. I tap out. I am ready to learn this lesson. I am ready for the solitude that beckons at my door.

I have unpublished all my past posts. They are versions of myself I choose to keep only for me. This is day one of my new life. Day one of finally listening.

Deep soul work is hard work—many choose not to do it, blaming some mental ailment as the reason they cannot. Or an unwillingness to step away from people and places that no longer serve them. I will never understand this. But I now realize these are not my people. Perhaps there is no one on this planet like me. And that thought no longer brings me sadness, as it once did.

I am okay letting the world be what it is. I will share how I get through things, because I think that is why I am here.

Going BareFoot: A Collection of Poetic Reflections, Art, and Photography

Coming Soon!!

Going BareFoot: A Collection of Poetic Reflections, Art, and Photography is a heartfelt, creative journey through the ups and downs of life. Filled with poetry, art, and photography, this collection invites you to walk alongside the author as she shares her personal story of healing, growth, and finding peace after trauma.

Each piece captures a moment, a feeling, or a lesson learned along the way, while the accompanying reflections and thought-provoking questions encourage you to look inward and explore your own path to healing. Whether you’re processing your own experiences or simply seeking a little inspiration, Going BareFoot offers a gentle space for self-reflection, creativity, and connection.

With honesty, lightness, and a touch of vulnerability, this collection reminds us all that healing is a journey—and sometimes, it’s best walked BareFoot.

Available for purchase on April 1st, 2025