The Architecture of a Sovereign Life

There is a specific kind of ghost that haunts a woman who has spent her life being "good." It’s the spirit of the girl she was told to bury to keep the peace. For years, I had lived as a tenant in my own temple, following a “Good Girl Blueprint” drafted by people who were more afraid of my light than they were invested in my growth. But there comes a moment when you realize that the walls are closing in, and you are the only one with the power to tear them down.

The Alchemy of the "Bossy" Girl

Before I was a woman, I was a "problem." I was a girl with too much lightning in her veins—creatively feral and born to lead. The adults called it bossy. They saw the other children gravitating toward my magic, eager to build the worlds I was dreaming up, and instead of calling it leadership, they called it a defect.

They weren't equipped for my light, so they tried to dim the bulb. Maybe it was envy, or maybe it was just the sheer exhaustion of people who had long ago forgotten how to manifest their own fire. They tried to strip the crown off a child’s head because they didn't know how to bow to it. So, I tucked her away. I hid the queen in the marrow of my bones and lived in the hush of their approval.

The Great Exodus: 2017

In 2017, the spell broke. I was twenty years old, vibrating with a hunger I couldn't name, so I packed up my life and crossed the border into North Carolina. It wasn't just a move; it was a ritual of departure. Meeting my husband was the spark—he provided the soil where I didn't have to shrink to stay planted. But the real magic happened when I looked around a room where no one knew my "small" name.

I realized I was standing at a threshold where I could finally be the woman I’d spent a decade hiding. Why not be her? I asked the dark. I’m sure the right ones will love her. I didn't just walk into her energy; I had to court her. I had to learn the texture of her voice and the weight of her power. I had to fall in love with the "bossy" girl all over again. 

Shifting the Current: From Reaction to Intention

Becoming HER is a labyrinth, but the center of the maze is sovereignty. Most of us have spent our lives in a state of reaction—responding to the "broadcast" of the world, reacting to the "good girl" script, and dimming our glow so we don't blind the neighbors. Sovereignty is the moment you stop being a reaction and start being an intention.

It’s the difference between being a warehouse for other people’s shadows and being a sanctuary for your own stardust. When you move with intention, you aren't asking for a seat at the table. You are the table. You are the meal. You are the hunger.

The Ritual of Reclamation

Winning the house back means I am finally the architect. I decide which spirits are allowed to dwell in these halls. I decide how high the curtains hang and how deep the silence goes.

This is the Relatable Rebellion. It’s gritty, it’s ancestral, and it’s non-negotiable. I am no longer auditioning for a role in someone else’s play. I am building a kingdom that finally fits the size of my soul. The marrow is safe. The hearth is lit.

The Village is gathering for the ones who are ready to stop shrinking. The unlearning has begun. Are you coming?

Barefoot Soul Sabbath

Sovereignty isn’t a destination. It’s a daily return — to your body, your rhythm, and your truth.

Barefoot Soul Sabbath is where I share the rituals, tools, and sacred pieces that support a grounded, sovereign life.