My Story
I want to talk to you about how magic and spirituality shaped and changed my life. But before we jump in head first down this rabbit hole, it’s incredibly important to name that I benefit from white privilege and although I’ve experienced severe trauma of different forms throughout my life, I did not have to navigate white supremacy, systems of oppression and the many, many injustices that people of the global majority face on a daily basis. Please also consider this a trigger warning for topics related to childhood abuse and trauma.
Born on August 3, 1989, astrology was embedded into the first day of life. As my mom carried me home from the hospital, walking across our condominium parking lot, a neighbor came running and yelling. “Be careful with her! She’s not just a regular Leo—she’s A LOT OF LEO.” It wasn’t until I was older and discovered my birth chart that I fully appreciated this story. I always knew I was a Leo and was incredibly proud of it (duh), but I didn’t experience a rendezvous with astrology again until 2012.
A cute tagline I like to tell people when I first meet them is, “I’m a cult baby!” My parents met in an intuitive cult in the 80s in the San Francisco Bay Area. The cult leader declared that everyone needed to marry (it was a psychic download, duh) and so my dad approached my mom and she replied with, “Sure, sounds fun.” They were acquaintances, but never kissed until their wedding day, and BOOM! My sister and I showed up. I wasn’t raised in the cult, but have early memories of former cult members visiting our house, which always spooked me even at a very young age.
The psychic and spiritual world always interested me—maybe it was partly due to my culty beginnings, but another piece was absolutely related to my sister. My sister Melissa is the literal light of my life. She’s a Leo rising and Sagittarius sun, like, can it get more fun and playful? She is the embodiment of joy, and as someone who has anxiety, she always offers me perspective and hope.
Me & my sister Melissa, rocking some epic Lion King onesies
From a very young age, between 8 and 9, I was left alone caring for my sister. Administering close to 5-7 different seizure medicines three times a day, feeding her, monitoring her for seizures, and obviously providing endless Leo entertainment. This wasn’t an every day thing—mostly happened during the summer months. My dad left and moved to Washington when I was 8 for work. He got laid off on my birthday and that was the only job he could find. My mom, essentially a newly single mother, had a lot on her plate. So naturally, I stepped up as much as an 8 year old could.
My earliest memory is sitting with my family near the Christmas tree when I was about 5. I remember looking back and forth between my parents and sister and thinking, “OK, so when they die (my parents) I will take care of her (Melissa).” I’ve always been very attuned to death. Speaking of which, I’m big on ghosts and spirits. I’ve seen, heard, felt, and communicated with spirits since I was young on and off. My mom’s side of the family is from San Juan de Los Lagos in Mexico, and these types of gifts run in the family.
I was raised almost exclusively with my mom’s side of the family. I’ve never met all of my dad’s siblings and only met his parents a handful of times in my life. My mom was one of 11. She was born in California and my grandparents were born in Mexico. They went back and forth—even after my mom was born, they went back to Mexico and had another child, and then came back to the United States. They were one of the first Mexican families in their town in the early 50s, my mom’s first language was Spanish, and she didn’t speak in school until second grade.
My grandma worked as an aid at a local school and my grandpa worked as a foreman on a ranch. Their work ethic and sacrifices have shaped my life. I’ve always been so incredibly grateful and knew that if it weren’t for them and their sacrifices, I literally wouldn’t be here. I grew up spending entire summers and most weekends with my grandparents. My grandma was my BFF, and still is. I sleep with her urn on my nightstand.
Gramps with me and my sister
Family has always been the core focus of my life, and a lot of that I think stems from the rich culture and deep love and loyalty I experienced with mom’s side of the family. But, I always struggled with my dad. We had a very volatile relationship. After he left the cult, he became a born-again Christian and was incredibly religious. My mom, a serious hippy who went to UC Berkeley in the 70s, wanted nothing to do with that. He would print out religious scriptures and hang them on the wall. He would also lock me in a room and force me to read the Bible, making me swear and promise I wouldn’t tell my mom. That’s the first memory I have of my heart racing uncontrollably.
Me + my grams in Mexico
Eventually my mom found out and fair to say it was downhill from there. They went on to divorce when I was 10. They sat down to tell me as I was tying my shoes before school one morning, and I responded with “Thank God!” They were both shocked. The tension was unbearable. During the early period of my life, my sister was also regressing. Part of Rett Syndrome is losing one’s ability to speak and other motor functions. She was so frustrated and depressed as she lost her speech, she spent years screaming and crying. Years. Her shrieks were just a staple I grew accustomed to like cars passing by outside a window at night.
My dad eventually got another job, moved back home and remarried. At first I was excited to spend more time with my dad again—I had missed him. The dynamic at his house became more complex after he remarried. My stepmom is an alcoholic, something they would keep from me until I was 24. The energy at the house was always unpredictable and I experienced various forms of emotional and mental abuse throughout the years, which at the time felt very confusing and destabilizing. My dad and stepmom are both from Wisconsin and my teen years were filled with listening to whispers of her threatening to divorce him, how much she hated living in California and just wanted to move back to Wisconsin.
I love godzilla + dinosaurs so effing much
When my sister turned 18, they did just that. I always knew it was going to happen, and so I never fully trusted either of them, which added an extra layer of strain on our relationship. My sister was now a legal adult, and my dad no longer had the legal obligation of shared custody. I became her guardian legally alongside my mom when I was 21. The tension and severe resentment built after their move, as you may imagine, and there were years I did not speak to him. I saw him a total of maybe 4 weeks of time over a span of 11 years. Every time he did come back to visit, it was because my sister was on life support and the doctors had told us she wasn’t going to make it.
After one of my sister’s ICU stays, I found astrology and Tarot. I began to unlock a deeper part of my soul, maybe as one does after a traumatic life event. I started piecing together that her health episodes seemed to correlate with the full moon. I always read my horoscope (Leo, duh, always eager to learn more about myself), but started to wonder: Could I predict her next big health crisis? I jumped into the astrological rabbit hole, discovered my entire birth chart and never fucking looked back.
In 2020, my dad was diagnosed with pancreatic cancer. At this point, I’d also been studying astrology for years and was much better at predicting cycles and themes in my life based on the stars. I knew December 2021 was going to be insane for me, and that, in all likelihood, that’s when he would probably die. OK, so, like, where’s all the magic? Things shifted FAST. I joined Gala Darling’s The Vortex in September 2021 and picked up daily journaling and EFT tapping. It became part of my morning routine, just like chugging water. This was the first time I ever felt present and embodied. I struggled with severe dissociation most of my life. Finally, I felt the joy of just simply existing in the now. All the magic of just simply being.
These two practices brought up a lot of repressed pain and trauma. I was able to make links in my brain and connect memories in a way I never had been able to, simply because now I was present. Before tapping and journaling, I was always compartmentalizing or dissociating in some way. On November 3, 2021 I was hit with a ton of bricks. Various memories I had experienced throughout my life all bubbled up to the surface at the same time. It was the first time my brain ever connected the dots. I was recalling childhood sexual abuse that involved my dad.
Me + my sweet sister Melissa
Other memories, sensations, thoughts and triggers flooded my mind. My childhood memories started to make sense. I had many signs of childhood abuse, but never connected all the dots. One memory would come up and then I would shove it deep down and wouldn’t think about it for months or years. Another would pop up, and I’d do the same. I never saw all the memories together. I started taking selfies to document my grief and my process. I never wanted to forget this part of my life. I knew my world was going to forever change.
Taken the day before I confronted my dad
Everyone’s experience with abuse is incredibly personal and different. I am going to share my personal journey and experience, but I am in no way endorsing how I decided to process as the best way for everyone. For me, I knew I had to confront my dad ASAP; December 2021 was nearing. I had a conversation with my dad and his odd answers were more confirming. Although he did not admit it (most abusers don’t), he never denied it. He told me he just simply couldn’t remember, among other strange yet affirming remarks.
Again, everyone’s abuse story is incredibly personal and everyone’s journey is different. For me, with his death nearing, I knew I had to forgive him. The words came out before I actually truly felt forgiveness in my heart, don’t get me wrong, but I felt like I had to expedite this process. I am so incredibly grateful to have my partner, uncle, aunts and friends fully support me, believe me, hold me, and love me through this entire chapter of my life. I wouldn’t be here without them. Suicidal thoughts and ideation were a constant in my life, and now more of that was starting to make sense. I am forever grateful for their support, thoughtfulness and care. (If you struggled with suicidal or harmful thoughts, always reach out. There is help out there.)
December 2021 was quickly approaching and my mom, sister and I had a trip booked to see my dad prior to these memories resurfacing. The night before our trip, my sister was diagnosed with aspiration pneumonia, a condition that landed her on life support and in the ICU more times than I can count. At this point, her lungs are so fragile and weak. She has half a lung left on one side of her body and the doctors have warned us that if she gets pneumonia again, it could be the last time. So anytime she has respiration issues, my heart frankly stops in its tracks.
I knew that I was going to have to go on the trip alone. And so I did. When I got out there, things escalated quickly. My dad’s decline was imminent and intensifying. My stepmom was unable to care for him—along with her alcoholism she has many other issues going on. I was left monitoring his medicine 24/7, advocating and helping him transition to the Otherside. The trip was supposed to be a quick three-day event, but one night, while my dad was still able to talk, he begged me to stay. He didn’t feel safe alone with my stepmom. He told me when he goes in for his blood work every month for his cancer treatments, they ask him if he feels safe at home and that he lies and says “yes,” but he doesn’t because of her alcoholism. My heart shattered.
To make matters more complex, in 2015 my dad was diagnosed with Autism Spectrum Disorder (ASD). This was four years after he moved and the way he told me was by saying, “You’ve always wondered how I could leave my children and not care, well, this is why!” Angry and still deeply resentful, my response was not compassionate. I said, “Fuck you.” At the time, I felt like he was still looking for excuses. He never admitted that he planned this exit strategy and was always making excuses for why he moved. This trip was the most time I had spent with him in over a decade. It was the first chance I had to see him fully now that I was an adult. I realized he absolutely was on the spectrum.
With my dad during my time in Wisconsin
I agreed to stay and ended up administering his medicine 24/7, every 2 hours during the final week of his life. I cared for him the way I’ve cared for my sister and the way I cared for my grandpa during his death in May 2021. The trip was unreal. I’m still formulating the words and honestly still processing. Healing isn’t linear. Intense just doesn’t do it justice. But, for me, in my journey, it was a cathartic and healing experience. And I’m grateful I had the opportunity. As an energy worker, I was able to help ease my father’s (and grandpa’s) restlessness, anxiety, and fear as he transitioned. This was one of the most profound experiences of my life. A gift I hope to continue to share with the world, and work with local hospice communities and offer end of life energy work sessions.
I used to give my power away. I used to think I wasn’t worthy or deserving of having the things I desired in life. Of living a life of my dreams. I tried to make myself as small as possible. I gave into every anxious thought. I used to be a control FREAK. All caps. I put other’s needs first before my own. I toned myself down to make others comfortable. I was always seeking approval.
This combination of astrology, EFT tapping and energy work changed my fucking life. Took my entire existence and shattered it. It broke me. There was nothing left of me. It killed the old version of me so I could start new. So I could embody the fullest expression of myself. So I could accept and love every corner of my inner being. It’s taught me that I am worthy and deserving of all of my heart’s wildest and deepest desires. That I am an inherently magical being, capable of regeneration. And I believe that we all are. I am so humbled and honored to help others rediscover these pieces of themselves, too, and reignite their inner light.
