For finding MAGIC in the MESS
messy bitch magic Book
Read my memoir of homecoming, healing, finding the magic in the mundane, & the sacred in the profane
Messy Bitch Magic Podcast
Listen to to the epic tales and sage wisdom of the everyday mystics in the Messy Bitch Magic Podcast!
The Messy Bitch Blog
Check out the blog where I'm dishing all the stories and messy musings.
So… what does it mean to be a
Messy Bitch?
The path of the Messy Bitch is
an initiation into the deepest magic.
Where we feel everything more deeply and don’t cruise through life on autopilot, where we live more fully and accept ourselves unconditionally, and we can truly love and connect with our whole being - even when it’s scary to. It will bring you to a place where there is no longer anything to hide and there is nothing you’re afraid to feel. To a place where you will know your power.
Because let me tell you, no matter how “spiritual” or conscious you try to become, your inner Messy Bitch has always been the wisest sage within you. They will always have their say, because you know they will yell to be heard. They will always have exactly the right lesson for you at exactly the right moment, even if it’s the most embarrassing and inconvenient one. And we know, the more you deny them, the more they will come bangin’ on your door when they’re ready to come out and play.
We live in the photoshop generation - a time where everyone is putting their best foot forward on social media, and if we’re being real, in person, too. We are inundated with success stories, my-life-is-so-great-now stories, and even the “vulnerable shares” on social media still don’t even scratch the surface of what it means to be deep in the mess most of the time. So when you, in all your messy glory, claim where you’re at and let it break you open in the ways only the mess can - THAT is power. Being a mystic doesn’t have to look like wearing all white and doing yoga all day. And it also doesn’t have to look like rubbing mud all over your face and evoking the wild, primal earth goddess within. Sometimes, it looks like crying on a friend’s lap after you had a moment where you truly believed you were nothing. Or screaming into a pillow and ripping up a tissue box after feeling that very specific kind of rage that comes with not being heard or understood yet again, and not knowing how to make it better.
In a world that is constantly trying to shame us into perfection, being a Messy Bitch is about embracing the fuckups and making love to life, even as it goes up in flames; it’s about getting to know every part of you intimately and deeply, and acknowledging the parts that seem like they are trying to fuck you up and make you seem like the worst person on the planet; it’s about redefining spirituality on your own messy terms, and seeing it in everything. The Taco Bell take-out because you’re too lazy to cook; the belly laughs to relatable TikToks when you thought you were the only one to be that way; The times you wished so desperately to say what you really felt, and all the time you wish you’d never said anything at all.
Being a Messy Bitch is not limited to a certain style or stereotype; it’s about you being you, yes YOU, the magical, spiritual, divine being that you innately are.
And living life with all you got.
Messy Bitches know how to make love to life
(even while they are getting fucked by it.)
Because they experience life like good sex…
It’s never clean, pristine, and by the books. It’s not logical or something you can be good at, or figure out.
It’s raw, real, and something to be experienced with all you got.
And…only then will it be the best fuck you’ve ever had.
In fact, This is a sacred space for ALL of the holy fucks:
The fuck ups
The fuck this
The fuck yes
The fuck that
The fuck no
The fuck me
The fuck you
The what the fucks
They see the magic in the mundane, the holy in the profane, and come for it ALL.
The Mess Is Magic
The fact is, no matter how spiritual you are, how much “good” you do, how much healing and integration work you devote yourself to, how much deeper you can relate to the concepts of “inner-child” and “shadow work”— life is going to knock you on your ass. Them's the rules, baby. And, let me tell you, you wouldn’t want it any other way. Because when the mess hits is a sign that your soul is trying to break through.
And if it’s not a global pandemic, mass political unrest, and a reckoning with systemic racism, it could be a Saturn return that brings you to your knees. Or being fired from your job. Or a really awful breakup, where you come out of doubting what love really is (especially when your ex immediately moves on to a really hot IG influencer while you’re still mainlining Oreos watching Will and Grace and snot-crying).
Or it could be the state of the world at large, as the light shifts and the darkness gets exposed, and you’re left looking at the broken shards and seeing how YOU contributed to the harm. But also how you could help create something new from the decay. It could be the loss of a loved one, or realizing the weight of the childhood trauma you’ve been carrying, or that you’ve spent your whole life wanting what everyone said you should want, versus what is actually true for you. Or the moments you drank too much when you had too much to prove, or you got caught in a lie, or you realize that God isn’t what you’ve been taught.
When the Shit Hits the Fan
…you can feel like you’re in the middle of the ocean with a broken life raft.
But while the pain and the confusion and the un-fucking-fairness of it all feels only too real, you are not being punished, you’re not broken, and you have not done anything wrong: you are being called on. These moments, my love, are what I call initiations. A kick of cosmic truth to the guts can feel like we’re being chastised by the universe if we’re not careful. And it’s also when the Messy Bitch comes into their power. Some people can shove it all aside and carry on with life.
The Messy One’s … we don’t run from it. Or if we try, the facade of having it all together will come crashing down at some point. And the second we lean into it? Bam.
God is right there at our side handing us the Oreos, dusting our cheeks with glitter, and watching Netflix with us. Because guess what? You have divinity in your deep humanity.
We’ve all seen the memes, the quotes, and the shiny branded posts. The healers, therapists, and coaches hawking their wares on social media: I can save you from the mess. Do this breath to not feel sadness; meditate like me to raise your vibe; free yourself from feelings of shame and guilt. And don’t even get me started on the endless: “5 ways you KNOW that everyone in your life is a toxic narcissist because they get defensive, or disagree with you, or they are triggered by something you said!” Since when could LIFE be reduced to a LIST?
Some of this stuff can be helpful, sure, if you take it with a pinch of salt and tweak it to apply to your ACTUAL real life, the one where you never have time to meditate, you always have food in your teeth, and that feeling of shame is because you're pretty sure YOU'RE the toxic narcissist sometimes. But what is not helpful, is using these tools to try not to feel, to beat yourself up when the tools just don’t work, or to try and gloss over or shove away the parts of you that society doesn’t deem acceptable.
There’s nothing actually wrong with feeling guilt or shame; there’s as much magic in these Messy Bitch feelings as there is in bliss, joy, and comfort. All of our emotions are portals to our soul’s expression - AKA way of living life with everything we got, with our full chest and hearts and sinking our teeth into every experience. And the more we evade the icky ones, the feelings that are deemed “low-vibration”, the deeper they get wedged inside of us, like an annoying song that’s constantly playing in the back of your head. For those of us who have ventured deep into the mess, we know that when left unchecked, unloved, the versions of ourselves that feel the most shitty and fucked up can do some pretty reckless, wild, mean, petty, nasty, vindictive, self-sabotaging stuff.
But guess what? Every single piece and part of you has a shiny side and a shadow side. And like everything else in existence, the part with the deepest shadows actually projects the brightest light. There is BIG magic in the mess, and the more you try and shove away the parts of you that you’re afraid people won’t love and pretend they are not there, the more feral and rebellious and destructive they become.
Messy Bitches are the modern-day
mystics & spiritual misfits
This space is for the Spiritual Misfits - for the ones who don’t see themselves in the sensual sex priestess, or the wellness yoga stereotype, or the earth goddess, or the 5D, galactic, tripped-out New Age seeker. Not because any of these spiritual stereotypes are weird or wrong, but because it just was never my path, and I couldn’t find anyone else who was devoted to spirituality and not claiming one of those roles. Trust me, I’ve tried them all. And with each organic cotton monochrome outfit, I felt myself growing further away from myself, but thought I was growing up. Here’s the thing, when we are living in a way that isn’t genuinely authentic to us, it takes away from the real magic - self-love, acceptance, and a rock solid relationship with the Divine. As it turns out, I am a devotee to life itself. My daily life, big emotions, relationships, are my church, and it’s the same for every other Messy Bitch I’ve met.
“Spirituality” is not limited to the stereotypes we see on Instagram and in the pages of the ancient texts. You don’t have to change or fix a single thing about yourself to know God. And guess what? Even the yogi-goddess-priestess-seekers have an inner Messy Bitch. The Messy Bitch simply has a bad rap of not being the most trustworthy, powerful, or, *ahem* marketable on Instagram. I, for one, have seen many people boasting about their amazingly decorated altars, mind-blowing yoga poses and trips around the world to spiritual meccas (which, honestly, I love to see them all). But, I haven’t seen many people showcasing the moments where they are falling apart, or the rebuilding process that might seem boring or irrelevant to the spiritual path, like the one time you decided to not be a total dick to your mom when you really wanted to.
