If I’m honest, I didn’t set out to change the world or make an impact.
I just wanted a family and a good life. I believed in hard work and effort to get results because that’s what I was told would give me both.
I didn’t get a leg up or come from a background with strong contacts and networks. Mostly, I grew up with no safety net.
Losing my mother at an early age, I adopted a survival mechanism that taught me one thing: if I wanted something I’d have to get it myself. And so I set out to survive. I didn’t know what it meant to thrive.
I told myself that I was never going to feel pain or get hurt in the way my mother’s passing had affected me. I didn’t need a savior because I thought the only person who could save me was me.
So I became brilliant at keeping it all together. I became the problem solver for everyone. And while I experienced disappointment, hurt, and pain, I never showed it because, to me, that was a sign of weakness.
The motto “don’t complain, don’t explain” became my mantra.
I outworked, outperformed, outlasted. And I learned to wear the mask, to take up just enough space to seem successful, but not so much that it threatened anyone. In boardrooms, on panels, I was the polished face of progress. The one they defaulted to for an external veneer of change.
But as the years went on there was a different story behind the scenes. I didn’t know what it was at first. It started with insomnia and waking early, then a tightening of the chest that was so damn hard I screamed out in pain.
I was holding it all together on the outside, but my nervous system was stretched beyond its breaking point. That gnawing sense that something was missing was getting louder; I just couldn’t put my finger on it.
My soul was finally saying enough is enough; it had grown tired of working on the surface level symptoms. Yet I couldn’t slow down. But then it all came crashing down. What I knew to be normal, safe, reliable became my prison.
I thought I needed fixing, so I tried healing and filled notebooks with tons of insights. Yet it felt like I was circling in a loop over and over again. And as the months went by, I started to question if there’s more to life: Am I meant to be—or even capable of being—so much more than this?
So instead of pushing to heal, I paused and accepted that I was right where I was meant to be. What if this was part of the great plan? I needed answers but not from the usual places I had looked before.
I had trained on reading the Akashic Records but never did my own reading. Imagine there’s a giant invisible energetic library that holds the records of your soul and every soul’s past, present, and future.
Some people see and feel it differently but it’s like a super cosmic library that provides insight into our soul’s entire history, understanding the present and exploring the future—not as fixed predictions, but as possibilities or probabilities based on your current path.
Opening up the records of my soul’s book provided a deep perspective on my life journey and the reasons behind the patterns in my life. The greatest shift was knowing that my “destiny” was not set in stone—the future is alive and I can choose to co-author the next steps.
What came through wasn’t comforting and it wasn’t coated in sugar. It was unflinching, almost surgical in uncovering the energetic patterns that needed to be revealed and dismantled.
Here’s what I had to pivot to shift from survival to living in line with my divinity:
- I saw every place I had abandoned myself to fit into systems never built for me. Every time I’d traded my truth for safety, I was reliving old wounds and making excuses. What I thought was rejection or punishment were experiences to evolve my soul to meet its purpose.
- I no longer felt guilt or shame about the events in my life and the cords that I’d created to hold me and keep me safe. Because these were contracts I made with myself to keep me feeling whole and worthy. And now, I’ve released them while creating space for the joy I didn’t fully experience growing up.
- I’ve finally grown to see myself behind the mask and know that it’s okay for me to not have control or have all the answers or certainty. I give grace and peace to those moments when I retreat or feel vulnerable.
- I no longer live with a five-year roadmap or plan for my life no matter how many times I am tempted to have rigid goals and plans. Instead, I have desires and intentions that are aligned to my North Star. And, as a consequence, I am dismantling the survival loops and outdated patterns because I am a part of the bigger Universe. I no longer chase or feel like I have to earn my stripes. I am rooted in my divinity and accept that we do have Universal support available to all of us.
- I am now more accepting of my originality and remembering that healing isn’t about rejecting the old you or becoming someone new. It’s about integrating every part of you.
