The Enlightened Bitch: A Morning Memoir from the Edge of Truth

This isn’t a love-and-light, morning-routine kind of blog. This is about the days you wake up feeling anything but enlightened. The days when the storm inside you is louder than any mantra. The days when being a spiritual woman doesn’t look like incense and flowy dresses - it looks like truth, rage, and remembering who the hell you are underneath it all. Welcome to the ride.

When Spiritual Practices Fall Short and Rage Rises Instead

This morning, I woke up not as a spiritual goddess, not as a beacon of light, and certainly not as a peaceful Manifestor basking in her signature theme of rest and flow.

No. This morning, I woke up as a bitch.

A truth-telling, energy-swirling, ego-will fire-breathing, don’t-fuck-with-me Manifestor bitch.

And yes, she’s enlightened. She just hasn’t had her kundalini practice yet.

See, the character known as Alisa was written to open her eyes today into a swirl of thick, hot, Vata-Pitta fog. Nothing worked right. The mind was numb. The energy was sluggish. Everything felt dense and a little dangerous, like Truth was about to punch someone in the face with love... or not.

And instead of pretending I wasn’t in it—trying to mantra my way out or slap a spiritual bow on it—I did the only thing I teach in the Ultimate Freedom Experience:

I stayed with it.

I watched the storm swirl and let it storm.

The Inner Narrative That Keeps Women Playing Small

The mind machine had a LOT to say.

“You’re too much.”

“You pushed too hard.”

“He’s walking away.”

“This always happens when you speak your Truth.”

And just like that, the old story—the one etched so deeply in my body it might as well be tattooed on my spine—rose up again:

“If you speak, they’ll leave.”

“If you ask for what you need, they’ll shut the door.”

“If you let the fire show, you’ll burn it all down.”

This narrative has played on repeat since birth. It’s taken different forms—friends turning, partners bailing, professionals ghosting—but the theme remains: when you are you, it’s too much.

Embracing the Chaos: What It Really Means to Stay With Your Energy

But here’s what I remembered today, in the middle of the bitchy blaze:

It’s all just movement.

It’s just energy.

It’s just a ride.

And I’m the one who wrote the script.

That’s the difference between living in the illusion and standing with it.

I may have been on the edge this morning, but I wasn’t lost in the spiral.

I was simply watching the spiral do its thing.

The Enlightened Bitch knows what’s real. Even if she’s cursing before coffee.

She doesn’t try to silence the stories. She sees through them.

She doesn’t numb out the fire. She channels it.

She doesn’t fake the love-and-light peace. She tells the fucking Truth—and that is peace.

Money, Fear, and the Stories That Still Haunt Us

And part of that Truth today?

Money.

Yep. That old theme again.

Money has been the through-line in my character’s entire novel. The thread that’s sewn its way through love, work, family, health. The story that screams:

“If you don’t have it, you’re not safe.”

“If you don’t make it, you’re not worthy.”

“If you don’t bring it in, you’re a failure.”

And even though I know in Truth that none of that’s real...

That money is just energy...

That I’m already secure and stable and whole...

The character woke up this morning not feeling that Truth.

She was written to feel the fear again. The old grip. The panic.

Because apparently, that’s what was meant to unfold.

So I let it.

The Rise of the Enlightened Bitch

I’m not afraid of her anymore—the angry one, the overwhelmed one, the fire-breathing, eye-rolling, throat-tightening version of me that used to be labeled “bad” or “too much.”

She’s the Enlightened Bitch.

And she’s just as sacred as the soft, meditative, mantra-whispering one.

Today, I watched the fire.

I didn’t shame it.

I didn’t bypass it.

I didn’t fake my way around it with spiritual sparkle.

I let it burn.

And now here I am—writing from the ash, the gold, the grit.

Still unfuckwithable.

Still the space where all of this unfolds.

Still not here to be palatable.

Still here to be the Truth.

Because this is the Ultimate Freedom Experience in action.

And let me tell you, it’s raw.

It’s real.

It’s not for the faint of heart.

But it’s everything.

So if you ever wake up pissed, heavy, reactive, irrational, numb, judgmental—or all of the above—don’t run.

Don’t shame yourself.

Don’t pretend it’s not happening.

Let it rise.

Let it move.

Let it go.

You’re not doing it wrong.

You’re not broken.

You’re just alive.

Welcome to the ride, Enlightened Bitch.

We’ve got space for you here.