A raw account of one woman’s journey…

I’ve been sitting with how to share the depth of what this journey has been for me. Twelve sessions, countless breakdowns, breakthroughs, initiations, and in-between moments that cracked me open and braided me back together with gold.

This was never just a self-development program. This was a descent. A soul reckoning. A homecoming.

I began UNFURL exhausted — the kind of exhaustion that comes from being everything to everyone. The responsible one. The emotional holder. The generator of life-force, even when mine was nearly gone. My inner child was powering the grid for my family. I was burned out, bypassing my own needs, stuck in a loop of “do more, prove more, be more.”

Then came the rage. The buried grief. The feral, snarling protector.

I met the girl who learned it was safer to become the monster than to be hurt again.

I let her scream. I let her shake.

And for the first time, I didn’t try to shut her up.

I met ancient protectors. The Pleiadians. The weighted coat of Divine Protection.

And I let myself be held.

Not because I’d earned it, but because I finally believed I deserved it.

Then came the underworld. The Showman in the spotlight. The buried girl beneath the floor. The guardian who wouldn’t let me “heal” her just to feel accomplished. That session humbled me more than anything ever has.

I didn’t get the resolution.

I got the truth.

I danced in my car in grief. Naked. Raw. No armor. I admitted the fear that I was dangerous to be around. That my sharpness might hurt people. And instead of shaming that fear, I gave her air. I gave her movement. I remembered my soul. The Lumerian self who chose this life. Who isn’t trapped in Earth school, but ordained to walk it.

And in the final session… I dropped.

Into the still, dark, holy void.

Not broken. Not triggered.

Just ready.

The Judge who once ran the show? She’s a baby now. And I hold her.

The rage that once felt dangerous? Now speaks truth.

The longing to be important? Is no longer desperation—it’s devotion.

I end this arc not as a woman who “did the work”…

But as a woman who became the witness, the mother, the fire, the cave, and the drumbeat.

I don’t need to be told I’m doing a great job.

I know it.

I’m not here to be fine. I’m here to be real.

I’m not here to fix anyone else. I’m here to hold my seat at the table of truth and let others rise to meet me.

To this sisterhood—thank you. For meeting me in the dark. For not trying to fix me. For singing around my fire.

To Mandy —your steadiness changed my life. You never flinched. You never pushed. You saw the story beneath the story. And held me through it all.

To every version of me that showed up. We did it, babe. You’re no longer hidden. You're home.

I believe that we will win. And more importantly— I believe I already have.