This is a big part of my mission. My passion and my purpose.

Little girls get so many messages about being nice, being sweet, being kind, being a caretaker.

Being nice (we know it originally meant foolish) means; “don’t be selfish, share, take care of others, make sure everyone’s ok”.

Except yourself.
Forego your needs.
Don’t be needy, it’s demanding.

You’re supposed to be pretty.
Above all pretty.

You’ll probably need a husband to take care of you.
Well, if you’re lucky a man will fall in love with you.
And you’ll have a good life….

“Oh, so I can’t trust myself. My feelings are wrong. I thought it felt right to just want a hug. Or to say when I’m tired”


“Mmm ok. I can’t trust that, those needs. And as I get a little older I realize that I can’t trust my body – because it might get fat. It is getting fat. I’m fat! Oh!! No! don’t eat the bread? But I like it?”

And I might bleed at an embarrassing time.


Oh please no, I might get pregnant!

All these things or even just thinking about them, make me feel so ashamed.

I’ll step back.

I’m going to have to be very, very careful.
To not let anyone see how much I want things.
How much I want to be.
How much I want.

And so in shame we disown parts of ourselves.
Wear masks.
Master our disguise until often we don’t know what the truth is anymore.
What our truth is.

We’re separated from our intuition (our inner learning knowing our school inside).
Instead we start believing our own inner manipulation.
And may grow into becoming manipulative because that need for control – of how we feel, how we’re seen, of not falling apart, or of our rage is born of fear.

A rage born of having been invaded;
To enter by force in order to conquer or pillage:
To encroach or intrude on; violate: invade someone’s privacy.

And the need for control is a child of fear.

Yes this may be a bit extreme, but somewhere, somehow we’ve received these messages to one degree or another.

We lose our exquisite ability to be intimate (not necessarily sexually, though maybe there too).

We’re separated from our vulnerability (no thanks that looks needy), our authenticity.
Our truth.

And the pain and grief of loss becomes intense enough that as our shame escalates we pick up the club of perfectionism, or self-blame or … there are endless options.

But beating ourselves with that club distracts us…
From our pain.
Our grief.
The silent tears at the loss of self.
And after sufficient time, we believe it all.
As if we’d been hypnotized into this new state…of being.
Or not being.

I could go on.

But I’m determined that all of this, and there’s so much more, all of this must stop!

This is a new time, of light and spiritual empowerment and enrichment.

And the solution isn’t in fighting against what is – that just empowers it, directing more energy toward it.

No. We need to create a counter culture.
Of wildly passionate loving women, healers, artists, who can hold the space for this to heal.
As we model a new way.

First though, each must heal individually.
We all have to do that work.
It’s the foundation on which we build our Queendom.

There’s a reason I haven’t talked much business in here.
First things first.
Those empires need to stand on rock solid ground.
Or at some point, they fall.

I believe we’ve begun to create that.
Stand up.
Jump in.
Don’t hold back.
We have a responsibility.

My truth is that everyone who finds their way here is a healer.
A soul-centered powerhouse.
Ask for what you need.
Risk being real, raw, vulnerable.
Shame, in the face of love is rendered powerless.

“We do not believe in ourselves until someone reveals that deep inside us something is valuable, worth listening to, worthy of our trust, sacred to our touch. Once we believe in ourselves we can risk curiosity, wonder, spontaneous delight or any experience that reveals the human spirit.”
E. Cummings