They taught you that being human began with I and ended with them against you.
-
-
This summer, I took myself on a solo shadow-work week to Port Ludlow — no distractions, no performance, just me, the forest, and the sea. What unfolded was one of the most honest and unfiltered descents I’ve ever walked into. Brutal at times. Sacred at others. All of it necessary.
-
There’s a version of love that isn’t really love. It looks like caretaking, sounds like devotion—but underneath is exhaustion, imbalance, and the ache of never being met. This is for anyone who’s tired of performing connection.
-
This is raw. Pulled straight from my journal. I didn’t write it to be neat—I wrote it to remember what safety actually is.
-
We both tried to be the “right shape” for each other. But the cost of fitting in was the death of truth. This is what happens when the whispers become screams—and you realize you’re the only one who can save yourself.
-
I thought I knew who I was. But the second plant medicine journey showed me otherwise. What I called “me” was mostly masks—versions shaped to survive, not to be true. This piece isn’t about clarity or resolution. It’s about the hollow aftermath of unraveling. About the 90% that wasn’t mine—and the 10% seed that still is.
-
This isn’t a story about endings. It’s a story about the fire that rises when you stop performing and start telling the truth. About love. About self. About what you’re no longer willing to carry into the future.
-
Somewhere between the manufactured laughter and the scripted rhythms, I saw my own reflection—the social scripts, the roles, the performance. The moment you see it’s fake, you can’t unsee it.
-
We grew up in the same house, same parents, same storm — but we learned different ways to survive it. The Sibling Files is what happens when we stop following the scripts and start talking about truth — in real time, messy and unfinished.
-
I carried a jagged glass ball in my throat for decades. Swallowed it to survive. Smiled through it. But silence is a slow death. This is what the voice said when I finally let it speak. A channeled reckoning in shards, smoke, and scream.
