I changed my Instagram name to say Therapist & Scent Priestess.
I thought it wasn’t a big deal. A gentle stretch.
I thought I was ready. Ready to put “priestess” out in the world as a title. Ready for the expansion.
Then my back went out.
Then all the old beliefs showed up. I have nothing to offer. Impostor syndrome to the max.
And over all of it, one theme, louder than the rest: I need to quit. Stop trying. Stop putting myself out there.
Nobody said a word to me. The backlash was all inside me, and days later I’m still living with it.
Here’s the thing. I wasn’t growing into it. I was forcing the seed into the tree instead of doing the growing it required.
My way with shame, with feeling fake, is to own it. Expose it. Bring it to the forefront.
So I’m working with myself the way I would work with anyone.
I stay the course. I stay curious. I talk myself through it.
First, I own it.
Instead of making it wrong or bad, I allow myself to know. To be with the reality of what is.
I am really struggling with putting myself out there this way.
And I don’t think I’m doing it “right.”
Second, I wonder what it’s indicating to me.
It’s information.
Information that I am afraid. That I don’t feel good enough.
Information about the priestess wound - this patriarchal programmed wound that says there is a right way to be, look and act as a priestess. And it’s definitely not me.
Messy. Momming. Therapisting. Corporate wifing.
Not sitting at my altar for hours, in meditation, doing all the things that would make my spirituality enough.
Third, I bring it up and out. You’re only as sick as your secrets, and shame lives in the dark.
So here we are.
The title is still up.
May we meet in the messy middle - our entire selves, not just the ones we believe we’re supposed to be.