The Remembrance Series: Part 2 — The Doorway, The Fire That Would Not Go Out, & The Rose Code

Doorway to the Chalice and the Blade

About a month ago, I rewatched The Da Vinci Code for the first time in over a decade. But this time, it wasn’t just a movie, it was a breadcrumb trail. A cipher. A whisper from the unseen.

There was a moment in the film where it’s explained that “The Holy Grail” has never been a cup, but a woman. The chalice is symbolic of the divine feminine—of the womb, of a vessel.

The upward-facing triangle, the blade, represents masculine force, and the downward triangle, the chalice, represents the feminine—the power to carry, to create, to become the living temple.

The Rose Inside the Pyramid: Union, Not Separation

And in that moment, I realized… my tattoo was both.

A rose—symbol of the feminine, of Magdalene, of the sacred heart, of divine sensuality, inside a pyramid—symbol of ascension, structure, and sacred geometry. 

The chalice inside the blade. Union, not separation.
Not war between the masculine and feminine, but a sacred convergence. 

This was not just art. It was a seal. A sigil.
A spell of remembrance etched in flesh. 

Past Life Memories of Persecution and Power

After the revelation of the rose and the pyramid, I turned to the Akashic Records, not for curiosity, but for confirmation.

I knew something ancient had stirred. And that rose was not a gentle memory.
It was a fire.

I was shown lifetimes where my voice was my crime.
Where remembering my power meant persecution.
Where gathering herbs, tending births, or praying to the Divine in feminine form was enough to have me dragged from my home.

In one life, I was a midwife who refused to hand a stillborn child over to the Church.

In another, I was a landowning mystic who taught women how to interpret dreams and speak to the departed.

In another, I was burned before I even had the chance to explain myself.

These were not stories. These were imprints.
Etched into the fascia of my soul, woven into the marrow of my bones.

The Witch Hunts: Land, Autonomy, and Erased Lineages

And here’s what I learned:
The witch hunts were never just about magic (women’s spiritual practices). 

They were also about land. About autonomy. About knowledge systems that bypassed the patriarchy.

Starting in the 15th century, with the publication of the Malleus Maleficarum—The Hammer of Witches—the Catholic Church launched an official handbook on how to identify, interrogate, and eliminate women who were seen as threats.

LET THAT SINK IN.

Many of these women weren’t just herbalists or “healers.” They were property owners.
Widows, midwives, and women who had inherited land or titles without male oversight.

By labeling them as heretics or witches, the Church had legal grounds to confiscate their land.
It was a systematic erasure of feminine wealth, wisdom, and lineage.

Why Visibility Still Feels Dangerous for Many Women

I felt this. I remembered this.

I realized that part of the reason it took me so long to “come out” as spiritual—to speak about the Akashic Records, plant medicine, divine feminine teachings—was because there was a very old fear still lodged in me.

A fear that this kind of visibility was dangerous.
That the very gifts I was born to share would once again get me killed.

And maybe you feel that too.

Maybe you’ve hesitated to speak up, post the thing, write the words, and share your truth. And you don’t know why.
But your soul does.

Because this isn’t just personal.

It’s ancestral. 
It’s cellular.
It’s cosmic.

Leaving the Church to Find the Divine Within

I was raised Catholic, but something in me always felt at odds with the institution.  

I couldn’t name it at the time, just a subtle resistance in my spirit, a quiet no beneath the surface.
It wasn’t until I stepped away from religion entirely that I began to truly feel God. That is when I learned that God is not in a building, not in a doctrine, but in my body, my breath, in ceremony, in silence. I found that the less I tried to define the Divine, the closer I became to it.

For me, walking away from the church wasn’t rebellion—it was remembrance.

The Fire That Would Not Go Out

And yet, here I am.
Sharing the very thing that once cost me everything.
Speaking the words I was once silenced for.
Owning the fire that never died.

I say this not just for myself, but for us.
For the women (and men) who were never named. For the stories that were never told. 
For the gifts buried with our bones and now blooming in our daughters (and sons).

This fire?
It didn’t go out.
It was passed on.

And now we burn not to destroy—but to illuminate.

The Rose Code: A Living Frequency of the Divine Feminine

They call it a code, but it’s not something written in ink. 
It’s not a scripture, not a rule, not even a tradition.

It is a frequency. The Rose Code is a vibration embedded into the ether of this Earth.

It sings in the spiral of galaxies, in the opening of petals, in the ache and radiance of the feminine heart that remembers her original wholeness.

It is not a doctrine to teach, but a melody to remember.
And like any ancient song, it returns in fragments… a dream here, a vision there, a pull to an island tattoo studio, a whisper in ceremony, a name etched in the subconscious that echoes through time.

The Rose Code is the embodied remembrance of Divine Feminine intelligence.
Not just softness, but sovereignty.
Not just beauty, but boundary.
Not just healing, but holy fire.

Remembering, Not Mastering, the Magdalene Frequency

It speaks of Magdalene not as a myth, but as a living frequency, the one who held the codes of womb alchemy, sexual sovereignty, and resurrection.
The one who stayed, witnessed, and anointed.
The one who was rewritten, yet remained intact in the records of the soul.

And I’m not here as a master of this code.
I’m not here as a teacher of it.

I, Dulce, am simply remembering.
Remembering aloud—in case one of you needed to hear it, and whisper back, me too.

I do not claim to hold all the pieces. But I hold a piece.
A sigil on my skin.
A vision in my soul.
A flame that would not go out.
And maybe… so do you.

To Be Continued, Not Concluded

Stay Close.
We’ll go deeper into the rituals of remembrance, the body as scripture, the Magdalene frequency, and the sacred vow I made across lifetimes.

This fire… it’s spreading now.

And it’s waking up every soul who ever whispered, “There has to be more.”

There is.
There always was.
And we are the ones remembering it.

🌹To be continued, not concluded.

With Utmost Love and Gratitude,

Dulce 🌹

P.S.
This is the rose inside the pyramid.
The vision I could not find in the world, so I became it.
A spell sealed in the skin.
A remembrance that walks with me.
Please receive it with reverence.

Artist: Sonteng https://www.instagram.com/sonteng_lombok/?igsh=cWJxMTR2dzE5dGgw

Originally posted on my Subtack 4 June 2025

Remembrance Series: Part I – The Rose, the Dream, and the Doorway

A pilgrimage of memory, medicine and mystery…

The Words That Made My Bones Vibrate

I was in the middle of a 1:1 Akashic Reading when my client—who also happened to be one of the few souls whose podcast deeply resonated with me at the very beginning of my awakening—paused, her voice soft but certain.

Her voice had been a thread I followed through the fog in those early days, when I was still trying to discern what was real, what was resonance, and what was fear. She helped me bridge the unknown. She was a lighthouse in the foggy in-between.

And now, there she was, speaking to me through the screen, with the kind of certainty that makes your bones remember. 

“You know you’re part of the Order of the Rose, right?”

I blinked. “What’s that?”

“You don’t know?” she smiled gently, and gave me a brief explanation. But that moment wasn’t informative—it was catalytic. 

Her words stirred something ancient in me. Like a bell that only I could hear. A code clicking back into place.

That was a couple of months ago.
And now, here I am—unraveling, remembering, recording.

Order of the Rose.

Those words lit a fire in me. And that fire lit what I thought was a new path. But it wasn’t new. It had always been beneath my feet, woven into my breath, hidden in plain sight. I just hadn’t named it, until now. 

And soon you’ll understand why.

So I walked down the path.

Discovering the Order of the Rose

This remembrance journey begins back in October 2021, the month of my awakening. At the time, I was preparing for a move back to Denver from St. Louis. The official relocation wouldn’t be until January 2022, but the soul migration had already begun.

I didn’t realize how disembodied I was back then. I was mind-heavy, spiritually starved, still very much inside the matrix.

Back in Denver, I began working with a therapist—I’ll call her Miranda. She was half clinical, half mystical. One hand in the practical, one hand in the ether. She did Reiki, somatic work, and held space in a way that helped me feel safe enough to begin asking bigger questions. One of those questions was about plant medicine.

**All names used from this point forward have been changed to honor the privacy of those involved.**

I told her during a session: “I feel like I need to work with the medicine. Something is calling me. I don’t go deep in my meditations—I feel like I need help peeling back the layers.”

She just looked at me and said, wide-eyed, “Did you really just ask me that?”

For a split second I thought I had said something wrong.

She shook her head, “No—it’s just wild. I was literally typing in our private Facebook group asking about any upcoming medicine ceremonies in the area. As you spoke, my hands were typing.”

A Prophetic Dream Leads to Plant Medicine

That night, I had a dream.

In it, I was working at McDonald’s, and my manager’s name was Emily. (I actually did have a manager named Emily, at one point, but it wasn’t at McDonald’s…)

I kept calling out her name: “Emily… Emily!” Over and over again, like I needed her.
I also held a baby girl in my arms with piercing green eyes. She wasn’t mine, but I loved her instantly.

The next morning—Wednesday—I checked my email. And there it was.
An introduction email from Miranda… to a woman named… EMILY! My jaw was on the floor!

Emily was the one hosting the upcoming plant medicine ceremony. I was stunned. And when I clicked her website?
The medicine she worked with was Tepezcohuite, grandfather tree medicine—the exact medicine I had tried to sit with on an earlier trip to Tulum.

Let me pause here.

Back in September 2022, I had traveled to Tulum. I met a local man who asked me, “Have you ever communed with Tepezcohuite?”

I hadn’t even heard of it before. I was looking for ayahuasca at the time.
He told me about this tree medicine, how powerful it was, and said he’d check if the shaman was available.

He later told me, that the shaman was in Mérida holding a ceremony.
I didn’t chase it. No worries. If it wasn’t meant to be, I wasn’t going to force it.

Turns out it was, just not yet…

The Rose Inside the Pyramid— My Sacred Sigil

Flash forward to January 2023.
I dreamed the name Emily.
I woke up to an email from someone named Emily.
And she worked with the exact medicine I tried to find in Mexico.

The medicine found me.

We had our discovery call—what was meant to be 20 minutes turned into a soul-deep hour. And when I finally saw her in person, I realized why she looked so familiar.

She had the same green eyes as the baby girl in my dream.
The threads were undeniable now.

The February ceremony was my first. The visuals, the giggles, the revelation—it was all new to me. But the way Emily held space… sacred, clean, loving… I knew I wanted to keep working with her.

So I booked a 1:1 energy healing session.

When I arrived, she said she felt called to do something different than what was originally booked.
I agreed and laid on the table.

We called in the Divine Feminine. And when she asked me, “Who is here?”

I said: “Goddess Isis and Mary Magdalene.”

Mary Magdalene and the Divine Feminine

At that point in my journey, I was more familiar with Goddess Isis. I had called upon her before, danced with her in meditations, felt her regal presence in the quiet. Egyptian mythology had always pulled at something in me I couldn’t name. So when she arrived in that session, I recognized her immediately.

But Mary Magdalene…she was new to me. At least, on a conscious level.

I grew up Catholic. I’d heard heard her name in passing—always paired with shame, with sin, with redemption through a man. That version of her never stuck. I never really knew her. Not in my mind.

But in that moment, her energy came through like warm honey and rose petals. My soul recognized her. Even if my mind hadn’t caught up yet.

Emily then said, “Ask them for your power tools. Sacred objects to help you remember who you are.”

So I did. And I was shown a vision.
A pink rose inside a glowing pyramid of iridescent light.

A symbol. A sigil. A seal.

I spent months searching for a physical version of that symbol—earrings, pendants, anything.

I couldn’t find it. So I let it be.

Divinely Inked—A Portal in the Skin

Until July 17, 2023, in Gili Air, a small, beautiful island in Indonesia.

I was fresh out of my 200-hour yoga teacher training. A new sister from the program invited me to her tattoo session with a bamboo tattoo artist.

I was drawn to his energy. I told him about my vision: the rose and the pyramid. 

He drew it exactly as I saw it in my mind’s eye. 
That was my first tattoo.
But more than that—it was a ritual, a rite of passage.

Tattoos, to me, are portals. They hold memories.
And this one? It sealed my vow.

This wasn’t just a plant medicine story.
This was an initiation. Part two comes soon. Stay close.

With Love and Gratitude,
Dulce Olivia🌹

Originally posted on my Substack on 01 June 2025

Healing at the Quantum Level: Bridging Quantum Healing and the Felt Sense

I love creating avenues for healing and expansion. Actually, I sometimes wish we’d stop calling it healing. I think I will.

I call it liberation.

Those parts of ourselves aren’t broken—they’re trapped. If you remove the one variable (a person, a situation, or a belief), what remains is wholeness. It’s not about healing. It’s about liberating the parts of ourselves that have been held hostage, whether by fear, shame, conditioning, or survival strategies.

We are both the prisoner and the jailer. And we’re holding the key to an already unlocked cell door.

The prison is perceptual.

Liberation is about traveling into those dungeons within our sacred temples and being present with those exiled parts of ourselves. Because they’re always telling the same story. It just surfaces through different, often repetitive, self-sabotaging or hindering patterns.

And all they truly need is to be listened to.

That part of you that was abused, abandoned, silenced… doesn’t need to be “fixed.”. It needs you to be with it. To show it, through your presence, that it is finally safe.

And in that safety, liberation begins.

Trauma As Energy

Trauma is energy – a whiplash of life force that never fully discharged from the body. Instead, it stays trapped in the body, looping over and over.

The more time you spend in your body, which is synonymous with presence, the more it speaks to you. 
And the more you listen, the more fluent you become. That’s when trust begins to form between you and your vessel.

This isn’t always easy, especially with deep-seated wounds we may not even consciously remember. The body is brilliant. It buries what would otherwise overwhelm us, because its job is to preserve the organism.

But eventually, for us to thrive, not just survive, we must return.

You won’t necessarily find it gets “easier.” You will simply grow more compassionate. You capacity to love will expand. And that is what makes it feel easier.

Safety in the Healing Space

When I sense a client is nervous before a session, I always:

Your body, your Records, and the medicine (if we are working with plant spirits) will never show you something you are not ready for.

You may be broken open, but only to expand. Not broken beyond repair.

So if what arises is shocking to your system, trust that it is because you are ready. Ready to process. Ready to release. Ready to close the loop.
That movement of energy is just one step towards your liberation. A shift that already occurred—on a soul level… on a quantum level. 

Your body is simply catching up.

Presence as Integration

Think about it… how many times have you gotten into your car, and the next thing you knew, you were already at your destination? You were on autopilot. Your body arrived, but your awareness wasn’t present.

That is how intelligent the body is.

But here is the truth: your body can survive without You, but it cannot thrive without You.
By “You,” I mean your I AM presence.

And yes—communing with spirit guides, remote traveling, swimming through the etheric-blue waters of Mintaka is beautiful.

But if we don’t anchor those teachings into the body…we are just floating.

Take the cosmic medicine and infuse it into your cells. Impart the soul’s wisdom to the body.

Upgrade the hardware to process the new software.

This is where neurobiology comes in.

The Felt Sense and the Nervous System

Upgrading the hardware requires one to engage the felt sense. Why? Because trauma dysregulates the nervous system, and our nervous system governs everything. It’s not just about stress.

Your nervous system affects:

–Skin health

–Digestion

–Hormones

–Muscle function

–Energy levels

–Capacity for joy and peace. 

Example: 
When the body is under chronic stress, it activates the HPA axis—a hormonal feedback loop that increases cortisol. Elevated cortisol over time leads to inflammation, which affects everything from skin flare-ups to fatigue.

Digestion is deeply tied to the vagus nerve, which connects the brain and gut. Dysregulation can cause bloating, food sensitivities, or IBS-like symptoms.

—I struggled with digestion issues from my late teens into very recent years. I saw so many different types of doctors throughout the years, and none had any idea why it was happening. It wasn’t until I started practicing energy work, which led me to somatic work, that I was able to regulate my digestion. 

The nervous system impacts your limbic system—the emotional brain. So you can bet that a dysregulated nervous system will impact the ability to regulate emotions, feel safe in your body, and experience pleasure or peace. And isn’t this what the human experience is about? To FEEL?

Practices to Engage the Felt Sense

Modalities like breath work, EFT tapping, mindful movement (Yoga, dance, Tai Chi, to name a few), and vagal stimulation retrain the nervous system.

These practices:

–Build safety into the body

–Signal that you are no longer in danger

–Allow the body to thrive rather than just survive

It’s giving the body to finally exhale.

These are practices that bridge biology and spirit. 
These tools return us to the body, so the body can remember it is safe to receive love and expand. 

These are just a few modalities among many. Find one that speaks to you, and devote time and energy to do it. I promise you, you will FEEL the knots untying.

At first, it may might feel uncomfortable because you are disrupting the very loop that’s kept you “safe.”
But soon your body will begin to recognize the release as a treat, not a threat.

It becomes as simple as pouring water into a parched mouth. Your body will want it. Because it now knows that there is a release, and exhale on the other side.

Fill your body with the same ethereal waters you bathe in when you meditate
Your soul chose to be human.
So come home.

Make your body your sanctuary, your oasis, your playground.

This was always the point.

A Note on Safety and Support

***If engaging the felt sense feels intense, redirect your awareness to something pleasant—a comforting memory, a soft texture, a safe sound. 
Go slow. You don’t have to do it all at once. And you don’t have to do it alone.

There are practicioners who are trained to walk with you through these tender thresholds. I’ve leaned on support when certain practices became too intense to process alone, and now I hold that kind of space for others, too.

If your body says yes, you will know when the time is right.

Book a 1:1 Somatic + Akashic Healing Session with Me:

Disclaimer: I am not a medical provider. I am a registered Trauma-Informed Yoga teacher and an Akashic Records Channel. What I share comes from the Akashic Records, years of study, and lived experience – both in my own journey and in client work.

This is not medical advice, but soul medicine rooted in embodied experience.
Take what resonates, leave the rest, and trust your inner guidance above all.

A few reads that have inspired the knowledge shared in this article:

The Myth of Normal — Dr. Gabor Maté
The Body Keeps the Score — Dr. Bessel van der Kolk
Anchored: How to Befriend Your Nervous System — Deb Dana, LCSW

Originally posted on my Substack on July 15, 2025

I Choose the Bear, Part 2

And life did go on, but it was never the same again…

Life went on. My mind blissfully forgot, but my body remembered.

Locked doors have keyholes, and keyholes have the space from which memories can trickle.

Living in the Shallow Waters of My Own Body

At the time, I didn’t know it, but I was checked out from my body. I lived in it, but only in its shallow waters. I made do.

I was surviving. I thought life was great… and on the surface, it was.

But beneath that surface, unprocessed trauma and the emotions it carried became the silent narrative of my life. The silent program running in the background.

I love love. I love to love and to be loved.

That has always been true. But that silent programming wasn’t fit to give or receive the kind of love I daydreamed about.

As I grow more comfortable sharing my full story, I’ll reveal the ways those unprocessed emotions manifested, because this unraveling was just the beginning.

At the time, I didn’t understand why I was stuck in a loop. I didn’t even realize I was on a hamster wheel. That’s how detached I was from my own humanity.

I didn’t yet know we are energy and that we attract what vibrates at the same frequency we’re emitting.

Actually, credit to 19-year-old me. I don’t remember the exact words, but I once posted on Facebook:

“If we attract who we are, and I keep attracting shitty people into my life… then am I a shitty person?”

Well, damn.

I was onto something. I just didn’t know it yet. That was a soul whisper I wasn’t ready to hear.

⸻

Therapy, Awakening, and the Records That Saved Me

In early 2021, I started talk therapy for the first time. I told my therapist I was ready to process my experience. She explained that what I had felt that night at Sports Authority was a visceral response to trauma — my mind checked out, but my body was trapped in it.

For ten months, we met weekly. She helped me connect the dots, speak my feelings instead of suppressing them, and begin nervous system regulation in ways I didn’t yet understand.

That journey came to a graceful close after my spiritual awakening. That’s when the Akashic Records became my therapist of sorts.

Through synchronicities, I found The Body Keeps the Score by Bessel van der Kolk. I read the first chapter, then left it on my shelf for two years — until my 200-hour trauma-informed yoga teacher training assigned it.

I learned a lot. Realized a lot. Got triggered a lot.

The “online creeping” I mentioned earlier? That was my nervous system clinging to control. Hypervigilance. A survival strategy rooted in trauma. When you’ve been hurt or blindsided, the body starts scanning for threats, not out of trust, but out of fear.

⸻

Emotions are energy in motion. If they’re not felt, they’re repressed. They fester.

That visceral response at Sports Authority was my body blowing open the doors I’d locked that night.

From Mausoleum to Sacred Temple

Now, that I am more in tune with my spirituality, and realizing that I am not this body, but it is my body… I stopped treating it like a mausoleum and began revering it as a sacred temple.

I’ll skip over many stories for now, because I want to get to the happy ending.

I’ve learned the beauty of presence. The only moment that exists is now. Not two hours ago, not two hours from now. And to stay present, we must stay in our bodies.

If you’re uncomfortable in a room, you leave it.

If you’re uncomfortable in your body, you leave it — moving into your mind.

But life doesn’t happen there.

It’s my belief we’re meant to feel our way through life, not think our way through it.

⸻

The unraveling of that 2010 trauma led me down a path that wove together the spiritual, physical, and mental — my own Holy Trinity of healing.

I can do the work I do and hold the space I hold because my heart was broken… open.

When I stopped staring at the shattered pieces, I saw the spaciousness created within me. My heart broke open because I was ready to expand.

I travel — both physically and into the depths of my soul — to unshackle fragments and bring them back into the light.

The Akashic Records became my guide, showing me where emotions were stuck in my body. Then it was my choice: process and transmute, or let them fester.

Some took longer to face, and that was okay. I worked through layers of shame — shame for being defenseless, shame for blaming myself, shame for surviving in silence.

⸻

Healing is a spiral. Every time I circled back to this experience, I thought, I’ve already processed this. And I had, at that level. But each return brought me higher on the spiral, through new lenses, until the loop began to close.

Trauma is an energetic surge. Unprocessed, it loops endlessly. Closing it means sitting with the version of yourself who lived it, listening, and helping them rewrite their ending.

And that’s what I’m doing right now.

In telling this story, over and over these past weeks — I’ve been ready to listen. Ready to give myself the pen.

Now, the spiral’s tail is in sight. I’ve shared this story without emotional charge, a sign the somatic healing, therapy, spiritual work, and plant medicine ceremonies… worked.

I never let this define me.

But now I see it shaped me.

It planted a seed that sent me down the path of my healing journey. And in tending that seed, I’ve redefined who I am.

Dancing With Shadows, Returning to Light

I say this with utmost humility: The space I hold for others is unparalleled. I’m not afraid of the dark. Your shadows won’t scare me. I’ve danced with mine too many times.

The journey back to the self is one we must take alone… but not without support.

⸻

Over a decade ago, I read this quote:

“Someone I once loved gave me a box full of darkness.

It took me years to understand that too was a gift.”

I believe there is a gift in everything. Sometimes it takes years to unwrap, but it’s there.

Would I have unwrapped this sooner with steady support? Yes. That’s why I’ve devoted my life to holding space for souls ready to explore their own dark, beautiful waters.

Because once you swim past the darkness, you find the gift. You find the light.

The greatest gift of all? The journey back to myself.

And in writing this, I’m ending the spiral.

This story has left my body. The endless chatter is quiet.

A new story begins. Now.

⸻

If you are still here, thank you for your presence.

If you or someone you know has experienced sexual assault, please know:

You are not alone. Your voice matters. Your healing matters.

📞 National Sexual Assault Hotline (RAINN)

1-800-656-HOPE (4673)

Free. Confidential. 24/7.

www.rainn.org

Originally posted on my Substack on 22 July 2025

I Choose the Bear, Part 1 – Surviving Silence, Finding My Voice

Not kidding… It’s 3:33 AM as I begin to write this. I found myself telling this story over and over, so I figured why not put the pen to paper and clear my mind? Then maybe sweet slumber will meet me in the space between my ears instead of these words.

This story has a happy ending. I feel guided to lead with that before I walk us through this dark, thorny part of the path I traversed to get to where I am today.

I was young and sweet, only 17, having the time of my life. I attended a house party with my close friends at that time. The guy I was dating invited me, but we met there. It was in the basement of a house that was under a 10-minute drive from my parents’ house. Music, laughter, the kind of night you don’t think twice about… until you do. Until years later, your bones remember what your mind could not.

Of course, there was booze, lots of it, and of course, I drank lots of it. I remember I wore a white dress. It almost looked like a nurse’s costume with the buttons that ran from the neckline down the length of the dress. I also remember pineapple juice. Whatever alcohol I drank was mixed with pineapple juice.

We were dancing, having a good time.

Then, it was morning.

I woke up on my friend’s couch. I was hungover, and my body was sore.

I went to the bathroom… There was blood on my underwear.

I assumed I’d had sex with the guy I was dating.

I don’t remember if it was the day after, or in the days or weeks to follow, that I learned the party we went to was a bachelor’s party… and that I was offered to the groom-to-be by the guy I was dating.

Looking back now, I believe the shame, guilt, and disgust that I felt towards myself numbed the anger, betrayal, and disgust that I should have felt towards them.

I branded myself with the scarlet letter. On a very subconscious level, I loathed myself. I felt dirty, unworthy, unlovable.

That was the programming that was running in the background. And to operate from such a place of little-to-no self-love is a recipe for self-destruction.

But I am a survivor. And because I had survived, without the tools to process what had happened, I began to destroy the very things that brought me joy. Fleeting moments. Beautiful connections. I pushed them away, not because I didn’t want them…but because some part of me believed I didn’t deserve to keep them. I destroyed everything, but not to the point of death.

I kept myself alive. Smiling on the outside…while on the inside, I felt the opposite.

I buried those feelings deep, deep inside my bones.

Out of sight, out of mind.

I don’t like the word sabotage.

It feels too conscious, too cruel.

But in hindsight, I can see how I would end things before they could end me. I pushed love away before it could prove me right about being unlovable.

Fast forward maybe four or five years. It was around the time Sports Authority was closing down their brick-and-mortar locations. I drove to the one closest to my house to take advantage of their sales. I wanted a pair of rollerblades.

I had a pair on and I was rolling down the aisles, giving them a test roll…

When I saw my abuser walking around with his daughter and his mistress, might I add.

I knew it was his mistress because, at that time, I didn’t understand why, but I had grown obsessed with him and my ex, so I would creep on their Facebook pages. Like, I had to know what they were doing. Hence why I knew that was his mistress.

We locked eyes.

My chest turned to cement.

Heat crawled up my neck.

I couldn’t breathe.

Couldn’t think.

Couldn’t move.

The shelves became my anchor as I dragged myself out of sight.

I had never experienced anything like that before in my life.

I remember feeling embarrassed. Like I was the one who fucked up. Because in that moment, I still believed I was at fault…for getting so drunk, for not knowing what my limit was, and for blacking out. For doing that to myself.

I mean, for fuck’s sake—a friend of mine, she was actually our DD (designated driver) that night…she tried to pull me out of the bedroom. And she was kicked out of the party.

And yet, I still felt like I was the one who did something wrong.

I thought that was the last time he would enter my life. I was wrong. He returned years later — not in person, but in headlines and hashtags.

Fast forward to the #MeToo movement. I remember reading the stories of all the brave women who came forward, and I remember saying to myself:

”Wait… that’s what happened to me. That sounds like my story!”

It wasn’t until then that I realized I had been graped. That I was a victim of sexual assault. That I had been taken advantage of when I was vulnerable.

Fuck.

So now, a whole slew of new, or maybe not new, but deeply repressed emotions began to bubble up into my chest. The sad part was that I couldn’t even fathom the thought of being a victim of SA. It almost felt worse. Because at least before, it was MY doing. It was MY choice. I overgave.

This realization meant that I had been silenced.

That MY choice was ignored and completely disregarded.

That they took. They overtook.

And somehow, that was worse.

So I buried that realization and the emotions it stirred up deeper into my bones. I locked the door and threw away the key.

And life went on…

I thought silence was safety.

I was wrong.

Part 2 is the moment I chose the bear.

⸻

If you or someone you know has experienced sexual assault, please know: You do not have to stay silent. You are not alone. Your voice matters. Your healing matters.

There are resources available to support you:

📞 National Sexual Assault Hotline (RAINN)

1-800-656-HOPE (4673)

Free. Confidential. 24/7.

https://rainn.org

This is deeply sensitive material, and if you’ve read all the way through, thank you for holding space. Thank you for witnessing this piece of my story. Thank you for honoring yours..

Originally posted on my Substack on 21 July 2025

The Most Spiritual Path: Anchoring Divinity into Humanity

A Journey of Reuniting Divinity and Humanity Through the Body

We are divine beings—yes. But the real magic?
Is in the human experience. Emphasis on human. 
We awaken to who we are… and instantly want to outrun our flesh.

But this is a gentle reminder that we chose this. This beautiful, complex, strong, yet fragile, fleshy temple. We chose to experience this reality through this body and from this body—this home we get to call our own.

I know I sound like a broken record when I say this, but I can’t emphasize it enough:
We aren’t meant to escape our humanity. The whole point of this journey is to anchor our divinity into our humanity.

Plot twist:
We are the star people who have incarnated to help humanity evolve—to transcend these denser energies. It’s been almost four years since my abrupt spiritual awakening, and I’ll admit—the greater part of my journey was spent meditating, channeling, transcending my body.

Without sugarcoating it: I was escaping.

It wasn’t until my last birthday in December, after gifting myself an Ayahuasca retreat to celebrate my Christ year—that something shifted. That experience pulled me from spiritual bypassing back into trauma-informed, body-based healing.

Grandmother Ayahuasca didn’t tell me what to do or hint at the path I’m now walking. But what she did do was show me all the pain stored in my body. Pain I thought I had meditated away, healed with divine light, and painted over with affirmations I wasn’t yet ready to embody.

When the Light Tried to Outrun the Body

And I’m not saying that I didn’t heal.

When my I AM Presence entered this body, it brought in its own core lessons—what we like to call “wounds.” 
So now, those lessons are compounded on top of the ones this vessel inherited through its lineages.

The learnings, or what we call “healing,” they registered on a soul level. 

So, yes—I did heal. But it happened on a soul level. Meanwhile, my body was telling a different story.
So now… two stories were being told at once. 
My soul was dancing. My body was still aching.

⸻

It wasn’t until much later (earlier this year) that it truly dawned on me what anchoring my divinity into my humanity actually meant—for me.

(As always: take what resonates. Leave what doesn’t.)

I—my I AM Presence—have seen the light, felt it, swam in it, bathed in it. But I didn’t share much with my parched body. I thought I was living fully embodied, but it was all surface-level. Because deep down, my body still ached.

Was I spiritually gaslighting myself?

I then realized embodiment isn’t a concept; it’s daily, physical choices that either ground you and anchor you into the body, or separate you from it.

GASP!!!

⸻

It was easy to get away with it, too. Because my channel is strong. When I channel for others, the current is strong, flowing, and pure. 
So I’d tell myself I was “good.” Otherwise, how would I be able to channel like I do?

But remember earlier, when I called our human bodies complex?
They have the ability to compartmentalize. It’s so easy for me to be of service to others because I deprive myself of my own sweet medicine. But not fully, which is why I was able to get away with it for so long.

Ai’s attempt at recreating what I see when I am greeted by Grandmother Ayahuasca

The Body Keeps the Real Score

Grandmother Ayahuasca took me deep into my bones—where untold stories were finally ready to be heard. Fully. Without shame and with compassion.

So yes, I still channel. But now I channel through my fascia, my bones, my muscles, my breath—through lingering, silent aches.

Our bodies indeed keep the score. As Bessel van der Kolk explains in The Body Keeps the Score, trauma imprints on fascia and the nervous system…exactly why somatic tools matter.

When I first started consciously channeling the Akashic Records, it told me: 
It lives in the body. Passed down in our DNA. Written on the fascia.

I recently realized that in having a conversation with my body, I was talking to the universe itself!!!

(Say what!?)

⸻

Your Body the Altar

I might have lost a few of you here, but think about it…
We are light. Correct?
And we traveled into our individual bodies and “powered” them up. Correct?

Imagine a lighthouse.
The body is the structure. Your soul is the light beaming through it.
But if your windows are dirty, cloudy, the brightness and even the reach of your light will be hindered.

Anchoring divinity into our humanity starts with honoring and respecting our sacred temples, the structures. Because that’s what our bodies are.

Actually…

I’ll do you one better: Your body is your altar.
Just as we so readily and excitedly build ornate altars for benevolent light beings we call upon, we should be doing the same with our bodies.

YOU are the altar.

It won’t matter if you have fresh flowers, expensive crystals, and oils on a tapestry—if your built-in altar is covered in dust and cobwebs.

⸻

And I’m not one to judge. I see why we do it. It’s easier. It’s easier to look outward than within. And I think I’ve discovered why: Because that is where the real magic lies. And once you take a hold of it—of your essence, there is no turning back. Because being a divine creator on Earth comes with a depth of responsibility that humbles the soul and expands the heart.
Not a burden, but a sacred honoring. A choosing to live in alignment with the power you now remember you hold.

⸻

Why We Avoid the Real Magic

I know why it took me so long to get deep into the nooks and crannies, to clear the dust. It was scary and painful to remember. 
But my body recently told me something—I don’t need to remember the why or the how in order for her to close that loop.

All she needs from me… is presence. 
My presence reminds her that she is safe. She is in the present moment— in the now, and not stuck in the loop.

Closing the Loops

And these days, presence looks different.
It looks like:

• Honoring my sleep cycles

• Nourishing with foods that support hormonal balance and emotional stability

• Moving my body with the intention of regulating my nervous system, not overriding it

• Tending to the sacred intelligence of my system through breath work, through tapping, through full-body shakes, through complete stillness

These somatic practices are how I maintain coherence between my humanity and my divinity. This is how I clean the altar that allows me to channel, create, and serve from wholeness.

Because my altar isn’t just a place I visit. It’s the vessel I live in. It’s the vessel I stay present in. 

And the way I care for it on a deep cellular level determines how fully I can show up.
In light. In leadership. In service. 

But most importantly, for myself. 

For the Little Girl Who Dreamed of Freedom
The one who used to imagine a life where her softness was safe. Where her voice wasn't too much. Where her body wasn’t a battlefield, but a sanctuary. Where play was sacred. Where laughter was medicine. Where she danced barefoot through fields and spoke to the sky, because she knew it was listening.

She is my why. She is my anchor. She is my greatest teacher. And she lives in my body.

These wounds, these lessons, were never punishments. They were initiations. Invitations. Portals into remembrance.

And I… the student… have finally become ready to receive her teachings. Not from a book, not from the ethers, but from within me. From her.

She is proof that this path works.
Because embodiment isn’t a trend. It’s the transmission.

Circa 1995, somewhere in San Diego, CA

This story, my story—is the signal.
The frequency that calls in those who are ready to remember themselves, too. To tend to their own inner child, and to meet that child not with control or criticism, but with curiosity and utmost reverence.

So if you ask me?

The greatest spiritual journey you can embark on, here on Pachamama, is a very human experience.

Originally posted on my Substack on 7 July 2025

You Went Through a Dark Night of the Soul, but You Have a Teams Meeting at 10 A.M. the Next Day

One moment, I’m meditating and feeling serpents rise up my spine—my first taste of kundalini awakening—and jolting awake to a kaleidoscope of faces in the mirror, some kind, others terrifying. The next, I’m logging into a Teams meeting at 10 a.m., pretending I’m not questioning the very fabric of reality.

That’s the thing about a spiritual awakening: it doesn’t wait for you to clear your calendar.

This space—Sacred Balance Collective—is for the souls navigating their own unraveling. The ones wondering if they’re losing their minds, only to find themselves. If you’ve ever felt like the ground beneath you has crumbled, leaving you questioning everything, you’re not alone.

⸻

The Breakup That Broke Me Open

October of 2021 turned my life upside down. At the time, I was dating someone, and though our connection was brief, it shook me to my core. He brought with him a feeling I had never experienced before—a remembrance, as if some ancient thread of energy between us had been reignited.

When it ended as quickly as it began, I was devastated. It wasn’t just heartbreak—it was a spiritual initiation. It felt as though my first glimpse of divinity had been ripped from my hands, leaving me shattered.

It broke me open.

I realized I wasn’t just uncomfortable with myself—I was deeply unhappy, unsettled, and ill-at-ease in my own skin. Everything felt like it was unraveling, and I couldn’t hold on to anything familiar because none of it was truly me. This was the beginning of my spiritual transformation, though I didn’t know it at the time.

⸻

A Dark Night of the Soul

Caught Between Worlds

Then came the sleepless nights. A constant buzzing in my ears. Flashes of light behind my closed eyes. And most unsettling of all—voices. I would hear my name being called—not inside my mind, but outside of it, like a whisper just out of reach.

At first, I thought I was losing my grip on reality. But no. This was my first spiritual awakening. The veil between worlds had begun to thin, and my soul was stirring, waking itself up.

TikTok became an unlikely lifeline. My feed overflowed with terms like dark night of the soul, spiritual awakening symptoms, and kundalini rising. Every video felt like it was speaking directly to me. I hadn’t searched for these things, and yet there they were. It wasn’t just the algorithm; it felt like divine intervention.

Or maybe Big Brother. Good-looking-out, FBI agent assigned to me. (I kid. Maybe.)

I dove headfirst into the spiritual rabbit hole, desperate to understand why I felt so lost, yet so alive. TikTok said, Meditate. Connect with your spirit team. I didn’t even know what a spirit team was, but I followed the breadcrumbs.

⸻

The Serpent in the Mirror

One day, I sat in front of a mirror doing a chakra alignment meditation (because apparently, we have energy centers within our bodies. Who knew?) As I focused on the energy within, I saw something extraordinary—a serpent at the base of my spine, coiling and circling, moving upward through each chakra.

My body began to gyrate uncontrollably, and as the serpent reached my crown chakra, I opened my eyes, startled.

In the mirror, my reflection shifted and morphed. My face became a cascade of different faces—some kind, others terrifying. I stared as the last face, dark and demonic, stared back at me. I had no idea what I had just unlocked.

Later, I would learn this was my first kundalini awakening. It terrified and fascinated me. I knew I needed help. I was way out of my depth.

⸻

Reiki, Ancestral Healing, and the Unveiling of Memories

I remembered a TikTok video offering distance Reiki healing. The woman on the screen said, I will send you chakra healing energy. Say yes to receive. Skeptical but desperate, I said yes. And then it happened—warmth poured into my chest, like hot tea filling an empty cup. My heart expanded, my head buzzed, and I couldn’t deny it: this was real.

That experience led me to a local Reiki practitioner who became my guide. Her sessions were transformative. She told me about the spirit guides who had been with me since birth and encouraged me to call on my ancestors, who had been waiting for me to step into my role as a healer.

I couldn’t deny her words—she would repeat or confirm messages I’d received in meditation but hadn’t shared with her. Through Reiki, I began moving stagnant energy, and memories began to resurface—light, dark, shadow, and divine. Ancient and recent. Childhood trauma rose to the surface, demanding to be seen, healed, transmuted, and integrated through ancestral healing practices

⸻

The Akashic Records and a New Dimension

The uncovering of my trauma led me to the Akashic Records, opening a dimension I didn’t know existed. At first, they didn’t give me the answers I wanted about my pain. But now, years later, I understand—they gave me what I was ready to receive. Over time, the Records became my most powerful tool for self-discovery and soul remembrance. Eventually, I became certified to read them for others.

Much later in my journey, I asked the Records about that man I told you about—the one who turned my world upside down.

The Records revealed a soul contract—an agreement we’d made before this lifetime. He came to remind me of the divinity within me, and then he was meant to leave. He was my gentle alarm clock, sent to jolt me awake and move on.

When I think back now, I see how tender it all was. He was kind. Never mean, never cruel. It just ended. And I marvel at the gentleness of it all. I feel grateful for how softly my soul whispered, Wake up.

The pain I felt after it ended wasn’t necessarily about him. It was a yearning. I ached for the light I saw reflected in him, not realizing at the time that the light was already within me. He was a mirror, reflecting what I was blind to until I could finally see it for myself. Once I recognized it, his role in my life was complete.

⸻

Welcome to the Journey

Through this journey, I’ve learned that spiritual awakening isn’t about becoming something new. It’s about peeling back the layers and remembering who you’ve always been. It’s messy, terrifying, and sometimes absurd—like going through a dark night of the soul and still having to log into a Teams meeting the next morning.

But that’s the beauty of it.

This journey woke me up. But more importantly, it brought me home to myself. It’s still bringing me home. This is a lifelong process, but what it’s taught me so far is that the spiritual path isn’t about escaping life. It’s about embracing all of it—the joy, the pain, the light, and the shadow.

This space is where I’ll share my journey—raw, unfiltered, and unapologetic. If you’re navigating your own dark night of the soul, wondering if you’ve lost your mind, I’m here to tell you: yes, you are, but only to rediscover the part of you that has always been there—your true essence—who you were before you were told who you had to be.

Welcome home, sweet soul.

With love & gratitude,

Dulce Olivia

Founder of Sacred Balance Collective—guiding spiritual awakenings, kundalini journeys, and Akashic Records embodiment work.

Originally posted on my Substack on 27 January 2025