*Warning: well-deserved cursing below!

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Lately, I feel pissed.

Like, pissed with ugly tears hiding around the corners of my eyes.

I was supposed to be happy with new resolutions for the new year, right? Wrong. It never worked out like that for me.

My entire inner world is shifting lately.

I don’t know if I’m leveling the fuck up, or if I’m going through some deep self-honesty process—“face your own shit” kind of thing.

Invisible, ugly tears hang tight under my eyeballs, refusing to be released. I feel the pain coming from the depth of my belly, electrifying my organs, and getting stuck in my throat.

I don’t want to show others my childlike, ugly face.

I feel like a bitter, ugly, dark, sharp-tongued kind of bitch when I’m in this state.

When I reach this place, I realize it happens for one, or both, of these reasons:

>> I’m giving my power away, out of deep fear and insecurity to external factors (people included); or

>> I am self-sabotaging myself into playing small; the only game I learned how to play well in my family for three decades of my life.

In a way, both of these reasons are connected: one brings on the other and vice versa.

I feel so angry that hidden tears are the only friends I want to talk to. I feel disconnected from friends. The person who I consider my spiritual mentor told me to “leave her alone in her pain.” I let her go.

I realized I don’t need a spiritual mentor, even now in the midst of a soul deep crisis. A spiritual mentor can only do so much for you.

Sometimes, I feel like our souls are screaming to be the only spiritual guide we need, by looking deeply within—not outside ourselves—because no one has the answers for anyone.

Tears are my calm, soft inner voice screaming through watery drops; as it knows no other language to make me stop and pay attention to the inner pain that I usually kiss away with a smile or the belief, “It’s not that bad, switch your perspective, and all will be okay.”

Fuck, no. Sometimes nothing is or feels okay.

Sometimes things are bad as fuck.

Sometimes things start breaking.

Friends become strangers.

You become a stranger to friends.

You become numb.

Life suddenly stops as you knew it.

You don’t know why the fuck you are living a life you don’t fully love. Or why are you settling when you told yourself you wanted to live a life of magic, but your reality is far from it.

No. There is no need to switch the perspective here. There is no need for me to write down positive affirmations.

I want to write down whatever the fuck I’m feeling, acknowledging my true, deep, raw feelings, and my true, deep thoughts that are constantly crossing my mind like an unstoppable river, trying to destroy what I thought I was creating so far.

What I need is to honor and see with clear eyes what is truly happening and have some “balls” to feel it all; the invisible storm approaching me to wipe up all my inner bullshit that keep me and my story on the same chapter, rewriting the same sentences.

That’s boring as fuck.

To read the same page and sentences on 20 different pages of the same book. Why would I do that?

My inability to write a different story is what’s making me mad. My inability to say “I’m done,” and move on. My inability to accept that I have reached a dead end, and I need to find a different path instead of banging my head against a “dead end” sign hoping it will open and allow me to walk through.

Nothing seem to be working in my life anymore.

I woke up this morning asking myself lots of why questions. I’m facing my truth after some tough days, and it is scary as fuck for me to accept it: I am done with this phase of my life and I want to exit it, but I am unable to.

I want to fly again, experience a new world out there, meet new people, risk it all once more. My spirit is a demanding, luxurious, mysterious, and magical bitch who won’t leave me alone until I level up to my potential and live a life that I truly desire.

Most of the time, we sign up for something or someone for too long. We stay in places, relationships, or environments past their expiration date; not realizing we feel unhappy because we are preventing ourselves the right to fly out there—free.

Sometimes, others will prevent us from moving on with false promises or a comfort zone.

Sometimes, we fail to speak up until thoughts bubble up and our throats want to explode in rage. People do things that affect us, and they say it was not their intention. People confuse business with friendships, and things get out of control.

I desire to have lot more money in my bank account, but I’m afraid to state my desire out loud as not to look greedy—afraid of others’ judgments and opinions.

I want an amazing amount of money. Amazing sex. A magical kind of love. A life that takes my breath away.

And I’m swallowing my desires for fear of being seen for who I am, for what I truly love and want in my life and for myself.

But my rage makes some good points; it comes to disrupt my life when I’m not being fully authentic:

>> I am done with others stepping on my boundaries when I declare them clearly and firmly. You respect them or get out of my life. Yes, I’m that bitch who tells you so.

>> I am done settling for a small life: sleeping on friends’ couches, surrounding myself with dramatic people, staying in environments full of pain. Your pain is yours. Your problems are yours. I don’t have to carry it for you. I’m sorry, I’m not sorry. My inner well-being comes first.

>> I am done telling myself that this is all there is—no. There is a whole world out there I crave to explore and see and experience.

>> I’m done with setting for less payment or charging people less than I deserve for what I have to offer out of fear they may not choose me. They will choose me if I choose me. Simple as that. If I don’t settle, they will not settle for mediocre personal trainers—they will choose me.

>> I’m done being ashamed for wanting to have financial abundance and live a luxurious life. I’m made for that shit. My spirit is a demanding bitch that won’t settle for less than an internal and external rich, smell-like-champagne type of life.

>> I’m done with the “simple life, minimalistic lifestyle” type of bullshit mindset. It’s not my way of life. And I have all the right to create an abundant life in whatever way that means to me.

>> I’m done with beliefs like, “because this is how it went for other people that is how it will go for me.” That’s a big fat lie. My life is mine. How I experience something is different than how you experience it. Your experience will be different than mine. This is a fact.

>> I’m done with my own inner bullshit; number one being playing small, by thinking and acting small. I want to start thinking big and creating a big large luxurious life for myself.

>> I’m done with settling. If I’m sleeping on my friend’s couch for more than a year, I’m settling to fuck, and it’s not my friend’s problem. I need to take responsibility and create a life that is good for my inner well-being, my body and mind.

>> I’m done with asking for “spiritual guidance” from any “spiritual mentor,” and trusting my own inner spirit guide, for once.

>> I’m done trying to make others make sense of me and my lifestyle. No, I won’t convince you or manipulate you to like me. I don’t give a fuck whether you like me or not. It’s not where I gain my real confidence. I have been there, done that, before—not anymore.

>> I’m done being wearing clothes that make me feel small and don’t fit who I’m becoming.

>> I’m done trying to find a role model out there and becoming that shit for myself, because I’m wise and smart as fuck; my potential is limitless, if I only I had known.

>> I’m done distrusting myself and distracting myself from inner pain; it comes like a hurricane to wake me up.

>> I’m done playing small like a Barbie in her little bubble world, and I choose to be a boss bitch instead; one who creates a phenomenal life for her spirit and inspires others to get the fuck out of their own way.

>> I’m done trying to be only feminine, when my masculine side is potent and shakes things up and protects my feminine essence. I will sharpen my sense of discernment when it comes to dating any potential mate. I’m both masculine and highly feminine, and they both serve their purpose. I would feel lost with only one of them operating inside my being.

Rage has a way with me—it shakes me up.

It wakes me the fuck up; so I can see where I’m settling, and how can I change my life accordingly, by taking firm, clear steps in the direction I desire.

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