Hey there,

This morning I told you about Artemis and the women’s organization that quietly saved me while I was busy saving it.

But here in the VIP room, I want to tell you about the part that never saw the light of day.

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Hey there,

This morning’s essay was about the fog—the limbo, the waiting, the things completely out of your control. The legal system, the timeline, the relationships that quietly disappeared.

But here in the VIP room, I want to talk about something harder.

The part that was in my control. And what I did with it.

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Hey there,

This morning I told you about my wedding band. About almost ten years on my finger. About the nakedness when it was gone.

But here in the VIP room, I want to tell you about the other ring.

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Hey there,

If you read this morning’s essay, you know we’ve been sitting with limiting beliefs today. The stories we carry so long we stop recognizing them as stories. The ones that feel like facts until Athena turns her light on them and we see them clearly—sometimes for the very first time.

I shared two of mine in the free essay. But here in the VIP room, I want to tell you what happened next.

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Hey Beautiful,

If you read this morning’s essay, you already know Athena is here. You know she arrived in my life on a quiet fall morning in 2010 when I fast-forwarded thirty years and didn’t like what I saw.

But here’s what I didn’t tell everyone else.

What came after that morning.

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This morning I wrote to you about Gaia—about a pond, about walking, about the quiet way nature holds us when we forget we need holding.

What I didn’t say in that essay is that Gaia is not just a beautiful idea. She is a guide. A specific, intentional guide—the second goddess in a framework I have spent years building, refining, and living.

Today, for the first time in this publication, I want to tell you about the whole map.

Because here is what I know about healing after divorce: it is not walking a straight line, and it is not random. There is a shape to it. There are phases. And when you understand the phase you are in, everything—the confusion, the grief, the two steps forward and one step back—starts to make sense.

That shape is what I call The Goddess Method.

In the meantime, if you are a free subscriber reading the beginning of this letter and feeling that quiet pull—I would love for you to come inside fully.

Through the end of May, a full year of The Goddess Journal is available at 80% off. That is twelve months of essays, paid letters, goddess guidance, and everything still to come—for less than the cost of a dinner out.

The goddesses are patient. But May 31 is not. 🌿

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Dear You,

There’s a moment that doesn’t get talked about enough.

It’s not the big, emotional ones.

Not the breakthroughs and waltzing epiphanies.

The quiet ones.

The moment when you’re in your home…

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Dear You,

There’s a certain kind of quiet that only shows up at night.

During the day, there are distractions.

Things to do.

People to respond to.

Moments that pull you out of yourself, even briefly.

But at night…

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Dear You,

There was a moment when I told myself things were getting better.

Asking for the divorce had been my last resort.

So when I finally said it—

and everything seemed to shift—

I wanted to believe that meant something.

His response was:

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There comes a moment when something shifts.

Not in a dramatic way.

But in a way you feel in your body.

A little more space.

A little more breath.

A moment where you realize…

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