Divine Feminine. Divine Masculine.

English is a clusterfuck. Most words we use are appropriated without any credit, and the words we have don’t do a very good job to describe what we mean. For example, English has one version of the word “love.” It can mean different things, but there’s only one word. The ancient Greeks have six words for love, all describing different aspects of love.

The Masculine + Feminine archetypes are used in the western world to describe the two sacred energies within ourselves. These balanced energies are referenced in most religions and cultures. In Hindu tradition, Shakti/Shanti are the identifiers for this energy. In Chinese tradition, they use Yin/Yang. However, I don’t use the terms Yin/Yang or Shakti/Shanti because I feel that is cultural appropriation. …

TW: This is a full account of my experience with a sociopath. I need to tell this story. However, this story contains the following: suicide attempt, blood, self injury, murder, physical abuse, emotional abuse, and verbal abuse. This is not a light hearted story. This has been a source of trauma for half my life.

I have struggled with how to tell this story for over a decade. I’m telling this story to show the bravery behind telling hard stories.

I typically love the summer. My depression lifts, nature envelops me, and the sun recharges me. This summer, however, I have been in PTSD flashback land. …

5 Tips to Crush Writing Fears and Blocks

“The scariest moment is always just before you start.”

― Stephen King, On Writing: A Memoir of the Craft

“‘Real’ artists are people who have learned to create despite their fears.”

― Julia Cameron, The Miracle of Morning Pages: Everything You Always Wanted to Know About the Most Important Artist’s Way Tool

You can’t be a writer if you don’t write. The phrase came to me intuitively as I was feeling a lot of self-doubt and frustration at my lack of “being a writer.” I realized that I hadn’t been writing, and it was because I was afraid. I had all these ideas that I know belong in the world, but I am my greatest obstacle. I had been afraid of opening up about my mental health and stepping into the shoes of a full time activist and advocate. …

Mental Health and Business

Having a mental illness f*cking blows. Sometimes I can function like a “normal” human being, and sometimes I’m a sobbing mess buried under a tent of blankets, tissues, and my cat. I have chronic depression, Pre-Menstrual Dystrophic Disorder, PTSD, and Seasonal Affective Disorder. I know a lot of other entrepreneurs with mental illness, and it’s important to talk about this.

I’ve showed up at meetings not having showered for a week. I’ve had mornings where I’m suicidal yet by the afternoon am overjoyed at the abundance of love within my entrepreneurial communities. …

The Spanish speakers called me blanca. The only white girl running the streets. Others had more sense. It just wasn’t done. Too dangerous. One man picked me up in his white van. No hablo ingles. He wrote down a number on a piece of paper. I nodded my head, though the number was low, and laid on my back for his two minutes.

Cochino. Dirty.

The next one wanted to fuck me in the ass, but I didn’t know until he bent me over. I felt the nudging pressure, and moved my body up, thinking he was just trying to get it in one way or another. He pushed me down, speaking Spanish. I yelled alto, stop, and pointed towards the door. …

A guy I knew died two months ago. He drank too much. I drank too much back then, too. The difference was I stopped and he didn’t. Chris was a paraplegic. He had no business drinking, but alcoholism doesn’t discriminate. He had the AA symbol tattooed on the inside of his forearm in red and black ink. The red faded over the years into pink and it looked like shit.

There were times we spent together sober, and times we broke into the AA clubhouse to steal money for cigarettes. His disability checks could buy us tons of pot on the the first of the month. We made out to pass time. What else is there to do when you’re high as hell in the blistering summer months by the pool? He would move to touch my tits, and I let him. I think it was because I felt sorry for him. …