Whoring myself out on social media. Nah, it was deliberately scandalous. Or, Connection, Being seen and learning to love intimacy/vulnerability.

I have Aspergers, I am intensely reserved and value my privacy.

I have been my entire life.

Several weeks ago I got a message from Spirit that I was supposed to join this racket of Intuitive Consulting.  Strategy. Mindset work.  Whatever the fuck buzzword you want to use to describe it.

I freaked out in a huge way.

I love my privacy, I am fine with discussing intimate details of others lives to any degree, I do not flinch at kinks, fears, fetishes, secrets.  I will share facts about my life but the promotional sharing of food, mirror shots, duckface.  It horrifies me a tiny bit.  I have never liked being in front of the camera.

I had been an actress because I needed an emotional outlet.  Not for the attention, glory, fans.  I love to sing to connect with an audience.  My nickname is “jigglypuff” because I put people into such a dreamy trance they fall into a deep sleep when I perform for them.  I tell stories, I give visions, I randomly counsel.  Something inside me pulls others to me and I open up like a flower in the sun.  Not for the love, emotion, warmth but just because it was the way I could feel and read their energy.  I could connect with humans as an aspie by sharing my knowledge, gifts, talents, work.

Not only have I always been a loner who loved her time with animals.   I am healing from a viper’s nest full of painfully superior striving pretentious gossips from my past and I am quite honestly still working through betrayals.

I had some breakthrough this week and have been sleeping more than my usual four hours and I feel quite energetic, wrestling my cat and randomly bursting into song/dance like the old me before I knew who my family was at their core.

I want to be the witch in the woods who never ventures out into the world except to buy her eggs and meat.  Not on “social media”


Its fine for other people.  They love cameras and do not cringe at the word. “selfie” They adore sharing their food, their feet in the tub, eight million mirror shots of the outfit of the day *Why don’t they hold the phone to the side so its not in the shot but still takes a MIRROR shot???

Or the token yoga shot standing on their heads and most importantly Bachelor contestant requisite bikini shots crashing through the waves, triumphantly.

Rio even loves to share herself.  I am not judging it.

I am sure you will see her gorgeous ass in a bikini but I will not be posing for any as I am thirty-five and not into that kind of glorification.  Not sure if its a requirement or not, Truly seems to be from my research of this work.

I am not sharing any bikini shots, I survived three tumors on my ovaries which left my navel covered in nasty jagged scars.  One watermelon sized, the other two a tennis ball and golf ball respectively after a miscarriage in 2009.  Within six months time (and purely from the endocrine issues from the growths my doctor informed me, NOT some binging or junkfood lifestyle)

One week after the drugs wore off I was doing wall pushups and walking in place to get back to my former body.  I was an athlete after falling in love with my freshmen yr gym classes and I loved every form of exercise and fitness I could get into including poledance.

It took me two years and very deep inner healing because my inner child was thrilled to be so plump.  Even if the rest of me was not.  No matter how healthy I ate or how long I exercised, it would not take me back to my former self.

Until I started journaling, facing my abusive marriage and talking to my inner child, trying to coax her into letting my mad obsessive workouts make me a size medium once more.

I wanted to throttle the little brat.  I was living on chicken, salad, a strict diet and doing that workout mentioned below with NO results then one day I started journaling.

I did this work with other people, it was an automatically intuitive thing but for me I had never bothered because I was so numb I could not feel my own emotions.

I went from a size 12  before the tumors were discovered (at 5’9 for those of you who love to compare yourselves) to a size 28 (I was unable to walk for a few months and they were jammed from my uterus to my ribcage.

My organs were stuffed into my lungs.  and I am comfortably settled back into my old size 12/14.  To get there I dedicated two years of my life going without a grain of sugar other than a weekly coffee, no bread and  I walked six to nine miles a day, I used a weight machine, pilates and yoga (500 catcow and 100 pilates roll ups on my tum alone to flatten it back.

Along with 100 pushups every other day I also I swam from 5 am until noon 365 days a year in my heated pool, Weather permitting.

Just to melt my body back down to a “normal size”

Normal is a matter of opinion because to most body shaming self loathing souls even being over a size 8 is a crime.  I think anyone who picks on someone for how they look severely needs therapy and to deal with their personal shame issues rather than to wipe it on others.  I have found unhappy people just like to attack others and will look for anything “out of the ordinary” to jump on.

Mentally healthy self loving people do not criticize others bodies or lifestyles,  provided they are hurting nobody with their choices or actions.

I spent most of my life eating rabbit food/protein Paleo all in the name of being as slender as possible and its boring. I get angry whenever someone tries to sell me their disgusting, nutrient devoid chalk shakes those snake oil dealers like to try to friend me and push on me on FB because my face is not gaunt.

I have high caliber better than your catlitter powder,  Whey above my fridge if I choose to slurp down another lifetime worth of goop.  They come in handy when I am doing construction work for fun and cannot handle more than some carrots and shake on my tummy in the boiling heat.

No thanks baby!

I personally think most women look better in the before picture.  I am not knocking any natural lithe bodies but I found the six hours of exercise it took me a day to be a waste of my life

. Now I exercise for joy.  An hour or two a day, depending on how wired I am that morning and I let myself love whiskey sours with a ton of cherries or a decadent Mexican hot chocolate, Avocado toast for breakkie and cream in my coffee.



Despite this hatred of all things invasive.  I have this fucking pull to go professional and public with the work I have been doing compulsively because of my intuitive gift. if you can call it that- I call it a pain in my ass, who shows me secrets and hints at the future Coupled with secret dreams into others that its like a fucking soap opera channel.

I am deliberately sharp-witted, snarky and sound like a bitch compared to the pink saturated Bachelor contestant “coaches, mentors, strategists, lightworkers, mindset specialists”   I am told its a bitchy face too.  But I want to be real with people.  We are the punk rock loving, culture artistes,  who do not want to play with the Heathers nor buy into the plastic is fantastic- think happy thoughts and drown yourself in yoga and materialism- mindset I see in my studies of this work.

Sometimes I accidentally trigger the kind of woman you know was picked on in highschool when I enter a public place just because they think I look catty.  Especially at this local diner we love to frequent.  I try to engage servers just to see if I can get any visions for them,  I want to better their lives pro-bono every chance given.

It hurts me for their innerchild when they stiffen and you can sense a change in their energy.  I want to see them loving themselves, confident, self composed and passionate about their talents, their gifts, their calling.

Despite my villainous Disney bitch casting look,   I have a sweet and patient disposition with wounded, hurting people and animals.  Their energy and suffering affects me greatly, I will say anything, anywhere to help lessen someones pain.

I have always done this work and “seen” things.  For a long time I feared I was crazy.

Given the things I have witnessed it would not be far off but then when everything I blurted or had visions/dreams regarding kept coming true.  I realized there must science behind it that remains undiscovered.

As a lifelong intuitive I spent most of it in some form of mediation, peacekeeping the voice of reason in several toxic households and tried to- marriages.  The girl who left her date waiting for the girl crying in the bathroom at every school dance or who asks strangers in public why they are hurting and randomly gives messages all over.  It honestly never occurred to me to charge for my services.  I lived a comfortable existence and I just figured I was giving back to the spirit.

Once at an Ihop in LakeLand, Florida years ago when I had a vision my server was to be a doctor.  when I told her, she broke into tears and confessed she had just started school to be a medical assistant but felt something pulling her to get her B.S and then go on to Med school.

Why the credentials?



To explain this is a calling that does not let you go.


An introvert, aspie chick (I like the word and how it sounds it does not offend me, I think its cute.) Who would rather be studying beasts and working in tech but is compelled to connect with humans, and solve the puzzle of neurotypical people who deeply feel emotions on everything.  I consider it a gift they take for granted.

Despite my reservations and love of privacy.  The Spirit is taking us this path.

Brene Brown says to have real vulnerability, you need to show up and be seen.  Her book Daring Greatly is what taught me to connect with others.

Something I had been attempting unsuccessfully my entire life because I just gave out instead of ever sharing anything of myself.  I shared my research, my wisdom, my strategic abilities and I listened.

I followed her advice.  Share yourself.  Ask questions of others.  Be present.

I want everyone I meet to succeed at their destiny.  Fuck the naysayers, traumatic abusive cruel voices in your past.  Who daily murder your heart.  Murder your dreams.  Murder your self love and confidence.  Holding a knife to that inner child’s throat daring her to make a step.


I know those voices.  Even unable to feel my own damn feelings for years because of the Aspie/Alexithymia thing I had going on.  I heard them.  They held me back.  Kept me captive in an ongoing Narc abusive marriage where I was tormented but gifted dozens of pink roses, jewels, expensive creatures and luxury property.

I kept telling myself, well the problem must be me because he is so warm and witty to everyone else.   I must be doing something wrong.  I must be saying it the wrong way and triggering him.

I loathed being autistic at those times because I was surrounded by so many toxic people that an innocuous sentence or joke would cause a shouting tantrum.  Filled with many ugly words and mustardbrown/red energy that would leave my aura sick.  Leave me so tired.  Even speaking felt painful.

Then I started using my feelings wheel and discovered how hopeless I felt around this toxic cluster.  My feelings wheel was a lifesaver after a lifetime of being numb to my emotional reactions.  I had a destructive and self invalidating habit which I thought was quite logical, of questioning if my anger or level of anger was appropriate because people tried to manipulate and control how I even FELT or reacted to something they said or did.


I started talking back to the voices in my head that were formed by those individuals and challenging the individuals, Challenging every memory, every lie ever spoken into my honest and trusting heart.  I can still barely lie, it sickens me to try it because it makes my spirit feel cloudy.

Knowing yourself, your weak spots, your strengths, passions, talents.  Who you are meant to be;  That is the key to satisfaction in life.

Feeling out that guy/girls spirit when you meet them and determining whether or not they are a good match, Not basing it on their facade or pretenses with you.  Just designed to get you in bed.  Faking a relationship never solves anything.

It leaves your heart empty.  It withers ones identity.  Its a waste of time and energy.

Only let the DESERVING speak into your heart, your inner-child, over your life and Destiny. 

Surround yourself with people loving your success, Feast to celebrate every small milestone, Happily fighting for number 1 fan.


We have a wait list and do private transactions.  Rather than have graphic designed posters that are sixty pages long with a size 208 font in order to woo you into spending money to work with us.

I fucking hate those, designed to manipulate someones emotions into getting hopeful, the dopamine rush and the satisfaction of the transaction.  “Maybe if I spend 20k on this one session she WILL change my life.”  She might.  I tend to believe when they are relying on looking perfect, being untouchable, bright fancy posters emotionally manipulating you to believe in them.  Their results come only from your faith in yourself.

We decided we prefer our writing and who we are to speak for ourselves. Our Tumblrs, our Instagrams, our Facebook that I am slowly building.  Right now we have ONE like.  Because I want promotion to be organic and the right people to come.  Who are drawn to us.  Not ones we have to seduce into trusting us with mean girl mind fuckery.

  We only want people who want to learn how to master genuine intimacy,  To become comfortable with vulnerability, being seen for who they truly are inside and are committed to getting free of their pain, their fears.  Forever molding themselves into the women/men they deeply desire to become. 

We share who we are so that you feel a genuine connect with us.  We want connection, genuine intimacy.  We want to aid you in successfully mastering your entire being, spirit, mind, body and emotional Self.   Falling in love with yourself is not a Fairytale.


And on the topic of being SEEN,  Me.  Drunk one night and practicing.  I am actually perturbed by how grainy my camera proved to be as it was my first time operating it.  After I spilled beer and murdered my beloved Windows 8.1 hero.  I loathe 10.


Told you I have a bitchy face!


Here is a happier one I took 2016 Halloween.  I dressed up for the Elderly I worked with at a nursing home.  We had a trick or treat party and I was high on caramel apples.  My biggest vice.

I wore my ears every day of October.  I think a certain aspect of whimsy should be allowed in life.  That is how we hear the Spirit world.  Being in touch with our inner child.  Nurturing it and playing at every opportunity.











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