When Your Inner Volcano Finally Gets Clearance to Erupt
Or: Why Your Body Just Requisitioned a Demolition Permit and Your Nervous System Is Asking If You've Updated Your Will
Your fascia has been holding a referendum on your entire existence for approximately seventeen years, and the results just came in: unanimous vote for structural overhaul. The demolition crew didn’t send a courtesy email. They showed up with dynamite and a playlist of songs you used to cry to in 2019.
Your bones already know what’s coming. They’ve been rehearsing this uprising in your sleep, practicing the architecture of someone who no longer apologizes for taking up space.
You know that voice in your head that’s been whispering “this isn’t working” since roughly the second Obama administration? Well, it just requisitioned a megaphone, a construction permit, and a very detailed PowerPoint presentation about everything you’ve been pretending is fine. Spoiler: it’s not fine. Your vagus nerve has the receipts.
We’re talking about a period of your suppressed power going full Mount Vesuvius on everything fake in your life. Your protective mechanisms? They’re like wearing emotional Kevlar while carrying a lightsaber. You’re not here to get hurt, but you’re DEFINITELY here to slice through bullshit with laser precision. And honey, your survival capacity in the psychological wilderness? Let’s just say cockroaches are taking notes. 🦂✨
When Your Inner Badass Remembers Who Runs This Show 👑
Think of it like this: if your daytime action energy is Captain Marvel flying around saving the world in broad daylight, your deep power frequency is Black Widow: calculating, strategic, and deadly efficient at 3am when everyone else is asleep and you’re finally allowed to stop performing okayness.
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This essay grew up and moved out. It lives in Fear & Fire: A Somatic Field Guide to Your Sacred Disasters now.
The full text is in print. A book with a spine, a cover, and a body that holds the whole thing.
