A woman sits quietly at a well-worn desk, wrapped in a soft robe, her feet and hands gently covered. Her posture leans inward—not in defeat, but in surrender. A single candle flickers between her and a blank canvas, illuminating her face in soft, golden light. Around her, scattered art supplies speak of ideas not yet spoken, truths not yet painted. The space holds stillness, grief, and grace. This is the moment between letting go and beginning again—the sacred pause where shadow meets breath, and presence becomes ritual.

Shadow Love Rituals

Shadow Love Rituals Embracing the unseen. Reclaiming the whole. I don’t call it shadow work. I call it Shadow Love. Because what we’re doing here isn’t labor—it’s liberation. This is not about fixing brokenness. It’s about remembering wholeness. Shadow Love is a practice of radical compassion, personal sovereignty, and deep energetic alignment. It’s the sacred act of turning inward with love—not fear—as your guide. The shadows you carry are not your shame. They are not your undoing. They are the parts of you that once had to go into hiding. And now, they are ready to be seen. When you move with the frequency of Shadow Love, you begin to welcome the exiled versions of yourself back home. The soft-spoken one. The overachiever. The silent…

A vibrant Black woman sits on her bed in soft lavender pajamas, bathed in radiant light. She holds a glowing shape in her hand as neon stars and cosmic symbols swirl around her. Her expression is open, aware, and lit from within. This image reflects the magic of receiving a dream message in real time—where inner vision meets awakening.

Dream Interpretations

Dream Interpretations Unravel the Symbols. Embrace the Wisdom. Embody the Message. Your dreams speak in a language older than words. Each symbol, each scene, each feeling carries an imprint—an echo of something deeper calling for your attention. At Healing through Visions, I offer Dream Interpretation through my Visionary Guidance services to help you remember that your dreams are not random. They are sacred transmissions, invitations to explore what lies beneath the surface of your waking life. Some dreams are simple, carrying symbols like flowing water, familiar faces, numbers, or distant landscapes. Others arrive as full journeys—emotional, chaotic, even prophetic. You may wake up with a single image burned into your memory or feel like you’ve lived an entire lifetime in one night. However your dream…

An abstract swirl of layered colors—deep navy, rose, gold, and soft coral—moves like a sacred storm through the frame, forming a fluid spiral at the center. The motion suggests transformation in progress, a vortex of emotion and truth converging into clarity. Each layer bends and curves with purpose, evoking the feeling of breath moving through the body and energy unraveling through the soul. This image reflects the sacred moment of transmutation when old stories collapse and self-remembrance rises from within. It holds the energy of reclamation, power, and grace in motion.

Remembering I Am Enough

Remembering I Am Enough Transmuting the Lie of Too Much and Not Enough I feel it rising again—that pull in opposite directions. That ache in my chest. That strange tension in my belly that tells me something old is moving through. The part of me that wants to speak up, shine, stretch wide into my full expression gets met with the voice that whispers, you’re too much. Almost immediately, another one follows it, quieter but just as sharp, saying, you’re not enough. This dance has lived in me for a long time. Longer than I realized. Longer than I gave myself permission to name. It didn’t start with me. It’s ancestral. It’s a residue passed down through the lineage, through the silences at dinner tables,…

A brilliant beam of rose-gold and indigo light streams from the cosmos, descending into the center of a vast, glowing ripple pool. Each ring of water pulses outward in waves of lavender, sapphire, and electric pink—like echoes of a prayer answered from within. The light doesn’t pierce—it embraces. The surrounding sky holds quiet stars as witnesses, as if the universe itself is in reverent stillness. This is the moment of reclamation. A visual embodiment of radical self-love, cellular healing, and soul transformation.

Loving Myself is the Medicine

Loving Myself is the Medicine A Prayer for Healing and Transformation I no longer wait for permission to be whole. I return to myself—breath by breath, truth by truth—and I find sanctuary in my own presence. This isn’t self-help. This is sacred reclamation. This is me choosing to be my own answer, my own soft place to land, my own fierce and faithful witness. Loving myself is the medicine. It’s not something I chase. It’s something I choose. I choose it in moments that feel heavy with grief, in the silence between sobs, in the tension that lives in my shoulders. I choose it when I look in the mirror and barely recognize the reflection. I choose it when I show up raw and honest…

A dark brown woman walks barefoot across a golden desert at dusk, her flowy earth-toned dress lifted gently by the wind. The camera captures her from behind, mid-step, with each footprint behind her glowing faintly with unseen light. The horizon stretches wide and open, mountains casting long shadows, as the warm amber sky envelops the entire scene in a sense of reverence and quiet revelation. She moves forward without hesitation, her presence commanding and soft all at once. There is no rush—only rhythm. Her path doesn’t erase the past—it transforms it.

Releasing Insecurity

Releasing Insecurity Last week, I caught myself shrinking. Again. I was about to speak up—heart open, words ready—and suddenly, this familiar fog rolled in, as if to block the flow of thought within me, to prevent me from expressing something at work and with someone I care about. It didn’t come loud or chaotic. It came quietly, like a shadow sliding across my chest. The kind of doubt that doesn’t just question my idea—it questions my right to say it out loud. My body tensed. My voice softened. I adjusted my posture, my tone, my presence. And I didn’t say what I really wanted to say. In that moment, I recognized what was happening—insecurity moving through my space again. I asked myself if I invited…

A stylized 3D animated 6 year old Black girl sits cross-legged on her bed, surrounded by glowing stars painted on the walls. Her room feels like a galaxy—soft purples, deep blues, and golden constellations gently pulsing with light. She wears cozy pajamas with crescent moons, her big 2 strand twists wrapped in a silk scarf. She’s holding a well-loved storybook in her lap, eyes wide as she listens to the words being read by a glowing spirit guide beside her—a translucent, gentle figure made of stardust and memory. The lighting is cinematic and dreamy, in the style of DreamWorks. Her features reflect Moon Girl meets Proud Family—expressive, soulful, and full of wonder. Around her, magical sparkles rise like fireflies, a very loved off white teddy bear with a worn nose, watch in quiet reverence. This is a moment of safety, love, and deep ancestral presence.

Reconnect. Reclaim. Rise. through the Wisdom of Your Inner Child

✨ Reconnect. Reclaim. Rise. through the Wisdom of Your Inner Child ✨ There’s a voice inside you that never went silent. That inner child learned to whisper in chaos. To adapt to survive. To stay small to stay safe. They remember everything—what made you light up, what made you shut down, and what you were forced to carry before you had words for the weight. They’re not looking to stay stuck in the past. They’re looking for you. This isn’t just a reading. This is a homecoming. Book a session now An Inner Child Reading with me through Healing through Visions is a sacred space—alive with remembrance, safety, and intuitive care. We meet your inner child together at the frequency they exist in now. Not…

A wide open sky filled with storm clouds in motion—swirls of deep violet, steel gray, and midnight blue. From the center, a jagged burst of golden light erupts upward, cutting through the clouds like a revelation. The lightning doesn’t strike—it radiates. The scene hums with power, not fear.

Healing Isn’t Always Soft

Healing Isn’t Always Soft A grounded reminder on what transformation really feels like Healing doesn’t always come gently. While stillness, calm, and reflection have their place, there are phases of healing that feel loud, raw, and deeply uncomfortable. That discomfort isn’t failure—it’s feedback. It’s your system reorganizing itself. When you begin to heal in real time, your nervous system may activate in unexpected ways. You might feel waves of anger after years of suppressing it. You might feel grief after setting a boundary that protects your peace. You might speak your truth and then collapse into exhaustion because your body isn’t used to holding that much power out loud. This is something I remind my clients often: discomfort is not a sign that something is…

A heavy, weathered trunk glows with otherworldly light at the bottom of a dark, swirling lake. Suspended by a molten-gold chain, the chest radiates energy from within—mysterious, ancient, and alive. This is not just a container. It is a sealed threshold holding ancestral truths, soul contracts, sacred rage, and buried power. A visual metaphor for Mars in Cancer in the 8th house—emotional depth, inherited strength, and transformation waiting to rise.

Mastering the Unseen

Mastering the Unseen What They Never Told You About Mars in Cancer Some people say my Mars is debilitated. That it doesn’t belong in Cancer. That it doesn’t know how to fight, or lead, or make moves. I say my Mars is a sacred vortex of primal power. A gatekeeper of ancestral memory. A sacred, simmering force that doesn’t perform power—it embodies it. It holds centuries of survival and transformation in every breath I take. It took me years to understand what this energy actually was. Not because it wasn’t always with me, but because the world I was raised in had no language for it. Mars in Cancer, retrograde, sitting in the 8th house at 29 degrees—it felt like carrying a wildfire under still…

A cracked, desolate Earth cradles a decaying heart—its surface ruptured, roots exposed, glowing faintly with smoldering embers. From its center, a Black woman’s hand rises in divine emergence, fingers graceful and alive with purpose. Her skin is rich, radiant, and dusted with sacred ash. On her ring finger gleams a mystic ring—dark stone encircled in gold, humming with shamanic and ancestral frequency. Flames spiral gently upward, not destructive but activating. The entire scene feels like a soul reclaiming its place in the cosmos. This is not destruction. This is *Sacred Unbinding*—the moment when energy clears, codes rewrite, and the self steps back into its throne.

Sacred Unbinding

Sacred Unbinding Reclaiming Your Energy from Embedded Imprints with Healing through Visions You don’t need to fight for your freedom. You only need to remember it. What you’ve called a curse may be a pattern that no longer belongs to you. What you’ve called an entity may be an energetic contract that expired lifetimes ago. What you’ve called interference may be the echo of an old agreement your soul is ready to dissolve. This is not about fear. It’s about energetic sovereignty. It’s about choosing to reclaim every corner of your being—and doing it on your terms. I don’t just clear entities. I guide you through a process of sacred unbinding. What is Entity Removal? Entity removal is the process of clearing energetic attachments, disturbances,…

A dramatic and powerful image capturing the essence of Santa Muerte, filled with vibrant colors representing her different lights. The scene is set in a mystical, candle-lit space adorned with symbols like marigolds, skulls, and an hourglass. In the center, a majestic figure of Santa Muerte stands, emanating an aura of empowerment and love, surrounded by a captivating atmosphere that blends realism with theatrical and cinematic elements.

The Empowering Guidance of Santa Muerte

The Empowering Guidance of Santa Muerte There is a palpable shift in the air as I scroll through the pages of my journal, dated April 23, 2019. The notes, once just a collection of thoughts and observations, now resonate with an energy that seems to leap from the digital ink. It’s as though the very act of revisiting these words has become a ritual in itself, invoking the presence of Santa Muerte into the stillness of my room. I pause, feeling the weight of an invisible yet undeniable gaze; it’s her call, subtle yet insistent, drawing me in. I remember writing about her with a respectful curiosity, noting her as the patron of those on the fringes, a figure of compassion in the harsh face…

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