Six Months of Soul Work: A Spiritual Glow-Up Like No Other

Whew!

When I tell you the last six months have been a spiritual exfoliation, I mean it. The kind that scrubs you raw and shiny at the same time. We’re not talking about cute little affirmations and bubble baths (though I still love a good soak)—we’re talking deep soul surgery.

These past few months, I’ve thrown myself headfirst into the mystical, magical world of metaphysics, spiritual principles, and universal laws. And let me tell you, the Universe doesn’t play when you say you want to live in alignment. She will test that declaration with receipts. And I’ve been paying up—with old beliefs, outdated narratives, and relationship patterns that no longer serve me.

I made a bold, beautiful commitment to walk my talk—not just as a coach, but as a human. It became non-negotiable for me to live authentically, integrated, and aligned with the truth I so passionately teach. I’ve been shedding masks like bad glitter, surrendering the small, scared version of myself who was clinging to survival-mode stories. She served me once, but sis had to go.

I finally looked myself in the spiritual mirror and asked:
"What am I doing that’s blocking my blessings?"
The answers weren’t cute. But they were freeing.

I faced my own codependency and unhealthy attachment styles with the grace of a goddess and the grit of a woman who’s had enough of her own BS. I dove into the uncomfortable waters of forgiveness—starting with myself. I stopped waiting for apologies and started giving closure with compassion. Conscious loving isn’t just a concept now; it’s a daily practice. A choice. A muscle I flex, even when it shakes.

And then there’s her—the mother wound. Whew. That sacred, tangled mess of longing and grief. I’ve been doing the heavy lifting of releasing the fantasy of who I wanted my mother to be, and finally—finally—loving her for who she is. No longer from a place of resistance, but from radical, raw acceptance. That shift alone has been soul-saving. And in doing that, I’ve stepped fully into my role as an elder in my family. It’s weird, wonderful, and wildly humbling.

Healing isn’t always loud. Sometimes it’s sitting across from a cousin you haven’t spoken to in years and choosing peace over being right. Sometimes it’s letting go of needing your grown kids to be a certain way and instead… honoring their autonomy. I’ve learned to set boundaries and respect theirs—especially as I stepped into my new role as a mother-in-law when my daughter got married.(Yes, darling, she got married!).

And while we’re celebrating love stories, watching my son discover his first love—both the person and his passion for music production—has been one of the deepest joys of this season. His eyes light up in a way that reminds me what purpose truly looks like. It's magic.

I’m not going to sugarcoat it—this inner work has brought me to my knees. But it’s also raised me up higher than ever. I’m seeing, with unflinching clarity, all the ways I’ve blocked myself from fully loving ME. From welcoming healthy relationships. From receiving the kind of love I once thought was “too much” to ask for.

Not anymore.

I’m so grateful for the spiritual smackdowns, the tearful nights, the awkward truths, the rebirths, and the revelations. These past six months cracked me open, but they didn’t break me. They revealed me.

Here’s to walking forward—boundaried, blessed, and boldly aligned. Here’s to more truth, more love, more me.

And if you’re reading this? Consider it your permission slip to do the same.