In the book ‘Women Who Run With the Wolves’, which is certainly one of my all-time top favourite books, to be read and deeply studied again and again and then once more, there is a story of a seawoman who has a seal skin which, when worn, gives her life, beauty, music, joy, a vibrancy to who she already is; she becomes MORE of she.

The story goes that a human man somehow isolates her from her sea family, and steals her seal skin, followed by somehow convincing her to then marry him and have a child with him. He begs for love and loyalty, and promises that once the child is born and a season has passed he will return her seal skin to her and she can return to the sea.

The child is born and begins to grow, but yet the seal skin is not returned. “Don’t leave me”, he begs. “I need you, your son needs you.”

He doesn’t notice, or care, that bit by bit and day by day she is becoming weaker, paler, more frail, the light inside of her slowly fading, her very essence disappearing, and everything about her appearing to be, quite simply, dried out.

Eventually, and I’m cutting a lot out of the story here as I’m writing it without referring back to the book, so I hope you’ll forgive me, she manages to wrestle her seal skin back from him, and she flees into the sea, along with her child, returning to her father and family.

Within a week or less of being back in the water and reunited with her seal skin, she has come back to life. Her skin is luscious, her cells plump, her face lit up and alive, she is SINGING again, for the first time in years. She has been returned to who she WAS, beauty and love and light and FREEDOM shining from the inside out.

She knows she must return the child to land, but she cannot and will not ever be parted again from her seal skin, from the piece of her which had been taken for all that time, the piece which she had ALLOWED herself to lose, to let go of, convincing herself that it didn’t matter, that she could make do, and be fine.

Can you see?

The seal skin represents the soul, and the process of fading, drying, becoming almost translucent in appearance, represents what happens to women who allow themselves to be separated from soul, and soul desires, and soul NEEDS.

The man in the story represents anything which we allow ourselves to put ahead of soul; it’s not a story about a man taking from a woman. It’s a story about a woman allowing herself to be seduced by LIFE, into following anything but that which she knows inside of her is most true.

Not too many years back, I was this woman.

On occasion I come across an old photo of myself from when I was 33 or 34 years old, and it always seems to be followed by a sharp intake of breath.

The PAIN which hits me, when I see these photos, is kind of incredible.

I look so … lost.

So empty.

So faded.

So WEAK, but also at the same time so hard, so dry, so ANGRY, so sad, and definitely there is an air of having given up.

At the time I was already well underway doing my purpose work, but I was allowing myself to stay in a deeply unhappy and not aligned relationship which was … had almost fully … drained my soul.

And it showed.

Of course I never HAD given up, I always believed I could have it all, full colour living, and often I think when my eyes had that ‘in another place’ look it was because I WAS in another place, far far away. I learned to reactivate my other-worldly travel powers partly to protect myself.

I was always there in body when I needed to be.

But my spirit … that was another matter.

Wandering, searching, dreaming, seeking, and knowing, somewhere deep within, that it didn’t have to be this way, that I could feel lit up, fulfilled, happy, taken care of by life itself, loved, FREE.

It’s been quite a road since then I guess, and too many stories to tell in one blog post, but I think you only have to look at a current photo or livestream of me to see that I’m no longer that person.

A day or two back a client remarked that she’d noticed a HUGE shift in my joy level over the last year or so.

A few days ago I posted a photo from only 2 or 3 years back into my Daily Asskickery free Facebook group, commenting on how ‘nothing had changed’ (I was referring to the blog with the photo), and numerous people took great delight in pointing out how actually EVERYTHING had changed about my physical appearance, one comment mentioning I now look 10 years younger.

I think this is true.

When I look at myself now, I see a woman who is definitely still figuring shiz out but who is HAPPY and who has slowly but surely learned to trust in herself and her own decisions again, in life, and in her inherent worthiness, worthy just for existing!

A woman who finally got her seal skin back, and KNOWS she won’t let go of it again 


Yesterday, I wrote a blog about some of the things other women say about women like me and my clients. Women who present themselves to the internet, as female leaders, as being supposedly stereotypically ‘hot’, and also dare to be happy, free, and RICH, while they’re at it!

It’s so funny, how even after writing a post like that, which stirred up quite a lot more than I thought it would, there are still people who get SO stuck on the idea that WE are somehow conforming, by looking the way we look, and more audaciously still, showing up the way we do – lit up and high on life, so bubbly I guess it’s infuriating when you are anything BUT that!

It’s funny because NO honey – we’re not conforming at all.

But we used to be, perhaps.

I was conforming when I allowed my soul to slowly slip away.

I was conforming when I told myself that maybe this was all I was worth, or deserved.

I was conforming when I slowly but surely adapted, thinking ‘well, maybe it’s not so bad after all … maybe I’m just making it up … probably it’s MY fault …’

I don’t mean things were NOT my fault, or more relevantly, my responsibility. My life is always and ONLY up to me.

But, I was lying to myself as bit by bit, pieces of me broke off, floated away, and bit by bit I became translucent, frail, lost, weak, whilst also hard, angry, and FURIOUS, at times, at anybody who dared to be living life like they were literally in love with every second of it.

I guess I was triggered or angry at times by women who were ‘too much’, and unapologetic about it, but also I was very very very drawn, and eventually had to admit – I was drawn to what I knew was available in ME.

I would get so so sad, when I’d see people who were truly happy in love and felt free in life.

I felt like it would be better – easier! – if I could only gather proof that EVERYBODY was unhappy!

Instead I couldn’t run from the fact that more, deeper, better, was available, and yet I was just not choosing it.

Anyway, it’s fascinating to me AND yes it annoys me AND I find it sad, when other women look at me and assume – she’s so confident / full of herself / cares only about surface shiz / etc.

If they knew what I was, what I allowed myself to be, how I let my LIFE slip away from me, how STARVED I was, and then saw the deep deep work I’ve done to let myself be all that I CAN be, in all areas of my life, perhaps they would understand –

It’s just as available for all of us.


Fast forward:

This morning at the gym I had that slightly uncomfortable feeling again, of being ‘too much’.

I’m super tan right now.
I have tattoos EVERYWHERE.
My hair is down to my ass and platinum blonde.
Even without makeup on my skin is fully GLOWING (it is what it is; happiness will do that, even after only a few hours sleep ‘cause I was having too much fun live-streaming last night!!)
And I’m in reasonably good shape.
Plus, y’know – boobs and tight / minimal gym gear 

I can see why I trigger people.

I trigger my OWN God damn self, a lot of the time!

On the inside, I’m still that shy girl who is not sure of herself and wants to be accepted and liked, and knows she has POWERFULLY transformative and healing work to do in the world.

On the outside, I am badass, and UNAPOLOGETICALLY EXTRA, in everything from the physical to the often more relevant energetic realm.

I noticed a woman near to me working out, about my age, working out VERY furiously.

I work out pretty damn beast-mode myself!! I love it.

But there was something about the way she was lifting that just felt aggressive in an overly masculine ‘stuff the world and its friends’ sort of way.

Protective energy.
Angry energy.
I’VE BEEN HURT energy.

Something I am familiar with 

She was … hard looking. Bitter. And DRY.

Judge me for this if you like, but what I thought, looking at her, was “I bet you have trouble getting wet”.

I wasn’t saying (in my head lol, not aloud) it out of ANYTHING other than that I’VE BEEN THAT WOMAN and I know ALL that goes with it.

She just looked DRIED OUT AND LOST, in all ways.

As I looked around, I noticed that nearly ALL the women in their thirties and forties have that same hardened and dry of spirit and soul look to them.

I thought of how that was me for so long.

I thought of how I think it’s still in me a little bit.

I thought of how grateful I am that every day it falls off, a little more.

Every day I have even more spring in my step than the last, and the playfulness and light-heartedness and happiness just bubbles out. Just like you can’t hide being lost, you can’t hide being found.

I thought of the story in the book, which I mentioned above, and that maybe I should write about this, about being starved of soul, and dry of vagina.

I thought that maybe it sounds like too ‘much’ of a blog title, like just trying to get attention.

I sat down just now to write it, typed it out, deleted it, stared at the ground, felt the sun on my shoulders and looked at the light dappling the ground in front of me, felt the JOY of all that I have let myself become and all that is now available for me, and in existence for me, and being created through and FOR me, and knew that I had to write it anyway.

Maybe for you.

Maybe to tell you –

It’s not how it’s supposed to be.

It’s just now how it’s supposed to BE, this emptiness inside of you, this lostness, this DRYness, the slow slow slipping away of your soul.

But also – it IS your fault.

I’m sorry – not sorry – but it is.

You allowed this.

You chose this.

You KNEW this is not the life that was laid out for you.

And you DO know that you still have the power of choice to change.

The only question is – will you?

Will you WRENCH your seal skin, your SOUL, back from where you’ve allowed it to be hidden, stolen, shoved into a corner, made to not matter?

Will you continue to binge, and numb, and pretend, and run, and stuff down, and LIE?

Or will you continue to say that first the kids have to get a bit older … you’ve gotta fix up your finances … maybe that SO NOT FREAKING ALIGNED RELATIONSHIP will just fix itself … maybe the fact that you NEVER do your true art or soul work will stop mattering …?

You can continue to be the lost one, the faded one, the one who is nearly see-through, and who will eventually disappear altogether.

It won’t really matter; you’ll fit right in … just look around.

Unless by ‘not really matter’ you’re forgetting that this is your life.

THIS right here is your life.

It’s circling the drain.

What are you gonna do about it?

Stop being so damn angry and sad at the world, when you know the only person you’re truly angry at is you, for knowing that everything you’ve ALWAYS dreamed of always was and still IS available, and yet there you go –

Throwing your angry weights and making out that ‘men are bad’, and buying into the BULL which your life is now being made up of, rather than simply remembering who you always were.

And walking away, without looking back, from everything you’ve become instead.



Life is Now. Press Play.


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