No I’m Not Lost I’m ♓️ Rising
🥣 I’m Not Lost — I’m Rising
Solía pensar que algo andaba mal conmigo por ser tan… sensible. 🧿
[I used to think something was wrong with me for being so... sensitive.]
So sponge-like. So overwhelmed by cosas other people seemed to breeze past. 🌪️💦 (Lookin’ at you, unfazed tax filers and people who can just “have one chip.”)
But I wasn’t broken. 🐟 I was a Pisces Rising ♓️ and I was surviving in a house — in a mundo — that didn’t know what to do with someone like me. 🫥
No one handed me a manual for this level of emotional permeability. No one explained that when you grow up with religious guilt, financial fear, or family rage disguised as “calm,” your nervous system isn’t just delicate — it’s on call 24/7. ☎️😵💫
Yo no sabía cómo tomar decisiones sin preguntarle a tres personas.
I didn’t know how to say “no” without guilt flooding my pecho. 💔 I didn’t know how to feel something and trust it without apology. 😶🌫️
Even now, I sometimes forget: I wasn’t born to carry other people’s chaos. I was just trained to. 🎒🪫
No hace mucho, I read a piece that brought it all full circle. 🔄 It was short. Quiet. Almost dreamy. ☁️ But it cracked something open in me — in that Pisces way. 💦🐠
It’s called “Pisces Rising: A Saga” by Joan Porte. And no, I’m not quoting it. Just honoring it. ✨
Because it reminded me that I’m not alone. That there’s a reason my healing looks like fog some days. 🌫️ That learning how to exist — not just escape — is spiritual work too. 🕯️🪷
And if I’m being real — and I am — I’ve often felt like a fuck-up. 😅🧼💥 (10/10 recommend tripping over your healing journey in public!)
Like no matter where I go, or what I try, I somehow mess it up. 🤦🏽♀️ It’s not good enough. Could’ve done better. Why did I say that? ¿Qué carajo me pasa? 😩
But I realize now this whole thing — this vida — is just an experience. Some things I like. Some things I don’t. Some days I’m at peace. Some days I’m deep in the tug-of-war. 🪢🌀
And right now? I’m in another one of those initiations. Another energetic upgrade, as I call it. 🔌💫
Where everything falls apart. Back to square one. No mapa. No savior. Just me. Again. 🥣🫀
But the difference now is…
I’m not young anymore. But I’m also not as naive as I once was. 🧓🏽💭🌾
Still, there are moments where the niña in me expects people to mean what they say. To match their words with energy. To show up how they promised. 💔🗣️
They don’t. And that hurts. So many disappointments. But maybe I didn’t just meet them by accident... Maybe I made an appointment with disappointment. 📅😮💨
To sit with it. To feel it. To let it unravel me — not destroy me. 🧶 (Yes, this counts as a spiritual practice. No, it’s not cute.)
If I signed up for this — if this is part of the soul contract — then maybe it’s time to really feel that in every fiber of my being. Not bypass it. Not make it cute. Just feel it. 🥣🪶
[I’m still here. I haven’t given up.]
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