Welcome to my world.

I live on the water, though the water has changed more than once.

I've lived a few lives before this one and I've learned a hell of a lot along the way.

In this life, I work with the mind.

I've spent most of it in rooms with people who couldn't afford to fall apart. I've helped them name the thing they needed but weren't allowed to admit out loud. I recognise the look. I've worn it many times.

For years I performed a version of me that worked. Polished, capable, in control, and quietly starving who I really was. Then one ordinary Tuesday it turned. I felt everything I had pushed down for so long. I cracked open enough that the truth I had hidden escaped into the world.

Once it was out, there was no more pretending.

Everything here grew from that refusal.

The silk, the stones, the cards, the house on the lake with candles preferred.

It's all one practice, and it's older than I am.

Permission, lived out loud, in softer light and much nicer fabric.

I create for the women who were taught to keep quiet. I create for her wildness. Her want. Her grief. The parts of herself that aren't tidy or timid. Power that doesn't perform.

I support the slow, tumultuous journey of discovering who you truly are, beneath the versions you've built to protect yourself and the ones you love.

I'm not a guru and I'm not enlightened. I doubt myself and I love a good cry. I'm learning pace and patience the hard way, which is the only way it's ever taught, and I've apparently needed more than one lifetime to learn it.

I've tried being quiet, I've tried being polite. I've tried being acceptable, in more than one body, and it has never once been worth the pain.

So if something here makes you feel less alone, less strange or more inclined to accept yourself, even like you've been here before, that's the point.

Live it, breathe it, be who you are.

Before the world taught you to fold.

Yours in Freedom.

With love,

Reyvene.