I'm Not Rebranding. I'm Returning.
Beltane is the midpoint between spring and summer—a festival of fire, fertility, and aliveness. It’s a time to honor what’s blooming, yes—but also to get honest about what needs to be burned away.
This year, I’m not arriving at Beltane polished or fully formed. I’m arriving messy. Tender. Mid-process. And honestly? More alive than I’ve felt in a long time.
What’s stirring in me isn’t shiny or new. It’s a deep reclamation. Of the woman I am now.
I’ve noticed lately that I care less about how I appear—whether my hair is styled or I’m wearing the right jewelry—and more about how I feel in the moment. I crave intimacy, not just connection. I want freshness, adventure, presence. I’m not interested in pretending anymore.
I’ve been rewriting everything: my website, my coaching offers, my language, my expectations. It’s not a rebrand. It’s a return. And for the first time in a long while, I feel giddy—yes, giddy—about what I’m creating. I found myself rewriting the descriptions for my coaching work and thought: I can’t wait to share this. This time, it’s not about what I think people want—it’s about what I’m called to give. I’m creating from the inside out. That spark? That’s the fire returning.
But I didn’t get here by grinding.
In fact, I’ve been quiet. Intentionally. I didn’t want to add to the noise of the online world. I didn’t want to sell something just to stay visible. I needed to listen first. To myself. To what was real. To what was trying to come through.
And while I’ve been reclaiming my voice, my work, and my presence—I’ve also been reclaiming my body.
For the first time in over a decade, I went on a beach vacation and didn’t stress about my body. I didn’t spend the lead-up restricting or overthinking. I didn’t hide in oversized clothing or obsess in front of the mirror. I’ve been working with a naturopath, a nutritionist, and a trainer for a year now—and something has shifted. Not just physically. Spiritually. I look in the mirror and feel… love. Not perfection. Not control. Just love. That’s new.
My spirit, on the other hand, is still recovering. The last eclipse season took me deep into the shadows. I’ve been processing quietly, behind the scenes. I’ve been crying a lot. Writing even more. And while I’m not ready to share the full story, I will say this:
Grief has taken up residence in my heart.
It’s cracked me open in ways I didn’t expect. It’s protective—of my inner child, of the parts of me that still don’t feel safe. And it’s sacred. Because I know it’s making room.
I’ve been distracting myself, too. Working too much. Saying yes when I’m tired. Staying up late to get just one more thing done. It’s a pattern I know well—because distraction is a softer kind of numbing. But this time, I’m aware of it. I’m not disappearing into it. I’m still here, still witnessing myself.
This is what midlife has taught me: there’s no fire without fuel. And there’s no emergence without grief.
I want women to know that this part—the part where it’s messy, where you’re burned out and tender and unsure—this is part of the process. Not a detour. Not a failure. The actual work.
I’m not bypassing anymore. I’m not shoving things down or drinking them away. I’m staying with it. I’m sober. I’m supported. I’m committed to my truth, even when it’s inconvenient. Even when it breaks my heart.
And through it all, the fire is still here. Flickering some days. Roaring others. But alive.
This season of life—this soul season—isn’t about scaling, perfecting, or proving. It’s about remembering who you are and letting that truth reshape everything.
So if you’re feeling the fire too—if something in you is burning down or flickering back to life—honor it.
Let yourself be quiet. Let yourself grieve. Let yourself want more.
Beltane—an ancient Celtic festival that celebrates fertility, fire, and new life—reminds us that the fire within us is sacred. That what we release matters just as much as what we grow. That becoming isn’t always pretty—but it’s always holy.
This year, I’m not chasing the light. I’m becoming it.
And I hope, wherever you are in your season, you’re letting yourself feel it all.
Because that’s the kind of fire that lasts.
What are you letting burn away this season? And what’s flickering back to life inside you?
