Last week, something unexpected happened — something so simple, so ordinary, and yet it touched the deepest part of me.
It didn’t look like a spiritual breakthrough.
It didn’t arrive through ritual or meditation.
It came through a human moment.
A relational moment.
A moment of being seen.
And what it rewired in me… I’m still integrating.
Earlier in the week, an old wound had been activated — that familiar ache of feeling “outside,” unnoticed, not chosen. This is a loop I’ve carried since childhood: divorce, estrangement, losses that broke my sense of belonging before I even understood what belonging meant.
So when that wound activated again — over something incredibly small — it pulled me deep into the old story:
“I don’t matter as much as other people do.”
“I’m on the outside.”
“I’m not quite enough.”
Using my Ishtara Method,
I descended.
I listened.
I held the younger part of myself.
And then — life offered a moment of repair.
A few days later, I found myself in a completely different experience. Someone I admire shared genuine, heartfelt appreciation for my devotion. Tears welled in her eyes as she spoke. She named the ways I show up, consistently, wholeheartedly. She reflected my presence back to me in a way I didn’t even know I needed.
Then she extended an invitation — a warm, personal gesture that said, without any fanfare:
“I want you there.”
“You belong with us.”
“You matter to me.”
It was one of those quiet, sacred moments where the body registers something the mind tries to dismiss:
Oh… this is what attunement feels like.
This is belonging.
This is a new blueprint forming.
I could feel the old story dissolving at the edges.
My younger self — the one who knew abandonment too well — softened.
My adult self — the one who has survived so much — let the love land.
My Imperatrix self — the sovereign, the creatrix — stood taller. She whispered:
“This is what happens when you stay open long enough for reality to show you the truth.”
This moment taught me something profound:
Belonging isn’t always a grand revelation.
Sometimes it’s a quiet tear.
A soft word.
An unexpected invitation.
A simple expression of care.
These small moments have the power to rewrite the entire nervous system.
They remind you:
You are not invisible.
You are not on the outside.
You are not forgotten.
You are not too much or not enough.
You belong.
And receiving this kind of love — truly letting it in — changes who you are as a leader. It changes how you show up for women. It deepens your attunement, softens your edges, expands your capacity to hold others with tenderness and truth.
I realized:
I’m not just healing my belonging wound.
I’m evolving my leadership through it.
This is the alchemy of the feminine path:
Descent safely into the wound.
Meeting yourself there with love.
And then rising — not because everything is perfect, but because something inside you has shifted.
A new blueprint is forming.
A new kind of belonging.
A new woman standing at the center of her life
If something in this story touched a tender place in you…
if you felt your own belonging wound stir, soften, or ask to be met…
I want to offer you a private invitation.
This kind of healing —
the descent into old patterns,
the softening of the body,
the rewiring of belonging,
the rise of your sovereign, truest self —
doesn’t happen in isolation.
It happens in connection.
It happens in safe, attuned relationship.
It happens when you are met… gently, truthfully, and without expectation.
This is the heart of my work —
the fusion of Ishtara Method and Liberation Coaching
to help women heal what has been living inside them for decades.
If you felt something open inside you as you read this…
If you’re longing for this kind of feminine healing…
If your body whispered, “This is the work I need”…
I would love to connect with you privately.
No pressure.
No performance.
Just a soft, honest conversation about where you are,
what you desire,
and how this path might support your healing.
Send me a message if this calls to you.
I’m here, truly — and I’d be honored to explore this journey with you.