On Being

For a long time, I didn’t know how to just be.

You might assume that because I work professionally as a psychic medium and intuitive that trusting my inner voice is effortless for me. That I wake up every day feeling certain about the next step, the next decision, the next direction. But the truth is, trust is still a practice for me too.

For much of my life I lived in survival and didn't trust myself at all. I knew how to perform and adapt - how to succeed, impress, endure, and push through. How to read a room, and shape myself accordingly...

It was, at at time, a toolkit to keep myself safe, but it was at the expense of ever existing as myself.

Being Before Becoming

Before healing becomes a practice, it's often born from necessity. Before intuition becomes a language, it's instinct. Before spirituality becomes visible, it's private and quiet. Every new step we take in our lives brings us closer to the edge of the unknown, and even with many years of self-trusting or deepening our connection with our spiritual gifts we still sometimes find ourselves experiencing doubt.

When I began exploring this path, I had spent so much of my life second-guessing, being dismissed, questioning my perceptions, and looking outside of myself for confirmation that learning to listen inward felt nearly impossible. The practice was unfamiliar, uncomfortable, and in a large capacity required a kind of surrender I didn’t yet understand.

But little by little I learned how to "be" more. Not in the sense of some tiered reward system - but in presence, truth, and the act of living from the inside out without apology, performance, or constant self-correction.

We all have a story that we're born into that comes with inherited rules and expectations, but the more we allow ourselves to step up as the author of it, the more possibilities unfold for us. Each time we trust a quiet inner nudge, follow a feeling that didn’t logically make sense, or choose our intuition over our fear our lives can change in ways we never could have predicted.

Creativity, Sacrifice, & the Inheritance of Silence

In my inherited story both my parents, and their parents before them, were artists at heart.

Creativity lived in and fueled them, but it was set aside in favor of what was deemed realistic, respectable, and sustainable to the outside world.

I watched them exhaust themselves - and their joy become secondary to responsibility. And I watched resentment grow: toward circumstances, each other, and toward the dreams they believed they had to abandon for survival. They sacrificed deeply. And they paid for it.

Being around them (and many people in general) often felt tense, heavy, and unresolved - as though everyone was carrying grief for the lives they never allowed themselves to live - but afraid to acknowledge it, even after being given opportunities to change their circumstances for the better.

And all the while I was repeatedly encouraged to become like them, to follow the same path of achievement and self-denial, even if something in me knew I wanted the opposite, because the standard of "success requiring sacrifice" was the accepted truth.

I didn’t want to abandon my creativity to be taken seriously, trade my joy for external approval, or live a life that looked impressive, but felt empty. But still, I tried for years because choosing something different was uncharted.

The Breaking Point and the Invitation to Spirit

I can’t pinpoint one dramatic moment, when "it all went to shit" and pretending the same old way of doing things no longer worked for me, just that there was a quiet internal collapse first after years of exhaustion and emptiness. A sense that no matter how much I searched, sacrificed, or achieved, I was still far away from myself or any real semblance of peace.

So out of desperation, I opened my mind to Spirit/ Truth/ The “divine intelligence” that meets you when you finally stop pretending you’re okay and surrender to “the impossible”.

And then I started to remember.

Coming back to myself to years of shedding - layer after layer of conditioning, beliefs, and false identities. I went through seasons of awakening, acceptance, forgiveness, vulnerability, grief, unlearning, healing, growth, discovery, integration, and creation. Then all of it, over and over again in new ways, as I came to remember, me.

Slowly, I began to understand myself again, to feel deeply again, to trust myself again, to experience flow, joy, and presence without feeling like I had to earn them.

Just by being.

Returning to Wholeness

Remember when I said "success requires sacrifice?" Well, as it turns out, that's actually true - just not in the way I was taught growing up.

Instead I think it means sacrifice like letting go of everything we had dedicate our lives to that isn't truly us.

It means choosing:

⋆ Creativity without justification.

⋆ Intuition without permission.

⋆ Patience without certainty.

⋆ Rest without guilt.

⋆ & Boundaries without apology.

And it's knowing deep down that grounded, embodied, and honest follow-through leads to truth, clarity, and the empowerment to build a life aligned with who we truly are, not who we were trained to be.

Why I’m Sharing This

This blog exists because I’m ready for my real voice to be heard, for my ancestors, because they never had the opportunity to show up this way, and for anyone who is intuitive, sensitive, thoughtful, and tired of performing their healing instead of living it.

I'm writing for those learning how to trust themselves again - slowly, imperfectly, and honestly.

House B exists in all it's forms to hold moments of sacred trust and to help others create a stronger relationships with their own inner voice.

Everyone is navigating something in this human experience whether it be a path of healing, growth, boundaries, intuition, and spiritual awakening - or dealing with being sensitive, perceptive, tired of performing, and ready to trust themselves again.

None of us are alone and I want you to know that I'm still on this journey too - living the work in real time, and I'm writing as I walk to let you know that all that matters here is your presence.