People love to package healing like it’s a crystal-charged, eucalyptus-mist, rose-quartz path to “love and light.” A soft landing. A gentle exhale.
But my healing girl era?
Babiiiiiiiie…it’s more like a shotgun-shooting, machete-wielding wild woman than floating on a cloud.
Yes, there’s relief. Yes, there’s peace.
But there’s also something nobody tells you about: the awakening of your inner weaponry.
Healing didn’t make me softer.
It made me sovereign.
The Yin and Yang of It All
Healing didn’t make my anger disappear.
It sharpened it, refined it and gave it purpose.
People act like healed women are supposed to be serene, smiling, unbothered, and whispering affirmations into herbal tea. Meanwhile, I’m over here feeling my emotions with the precision of a sniper who's finally learned how to steady her hands.
Healing gave me access to my anger - not as a threat, but as a tool.
It sharpened my rage until it felt less like chaos and more like clarity.
Less like destruction and more like direction.
There is freedom in controlled fire;
In feeling your emotions without drowning in them;
In holding your power without leaking it.
For the first time, I no longer feared my own intensity.
I trusted it.
My anger, my rage - they feel like safety now.
They feel like instinct, intelligence, protection.
It’s as if I’ve spent years training at Professor X’s Academy, studying every contour of my emotional power, and now I’m finally stepping onto the field - fully activated.
The Weaponization of “You’re Too Sensitive”
People have called me “sensitive” like it was a flaw.
Like it was a bruise.
Like it was a reason I should shrink.
And let’s be VERY clear:
It was almost always said to manipulate me, weaponize my emotions against me, or silence my intuition.
But here’s the truth I learned in my healing girl era:
My sensitivity is not a flaw - it’s a force.
It’s not softness - it’s perception.
It’s not fragility - it’s attunement.
It’s not weakness - it’s a spiritual radar.
I feel disrespect before it even materializes. I feel dishonesty like a shift in the air. I feel tension like heat on my skin. I pick up on energies people think they’re hiding. And I used to think this made me “too much.”
Now I know it’s the deepest proof that my spirit has been paying attention all along.
Anger as Love, Rage as Devotion
The rage and anger I feel?
It belongs to every version of me who didn’t get what she needed.
The Kayla who wasn’t nurtured.
The Kayla who was overlooked.
The Kayla whose softness was exploited.
The Kayla whose kindness was taken advantage of.
The Kayla who was emotionally, spiritually, or physically harmed by people who should have protected her.
My anger is their bodyguard.
My rage is their defender.
My sensitivity? Their guardian angel.
My healing? Their homecoming.
I use all of it: the fire, the softness, the intuition, the fury, the love - to protect and nurture the versions of me who needed someone to fight for them.
The Freedom of Owning All of Me
Healing didn’t make me a lighter version of myself — it made me a truer one.
A healed person isn’t always soft. They’re whole.
I can hold the sword and the sage.
The prayer and the growl.
The peace and the primal.
And maybe that’s the part I was missing: I’m not becoming a new woman.
I’m reclaiming the one I was always meant to be; the one the world tried to tame.
To Freedom! (😁😂)
Kayla
