Guys, I, uh, think I might be a cult leader... (Patreon)

Since you said you were cool with me rambling (something that you will likely regret) I will share with you my most recent rabbit hole, some family lore and why getting karmically called out has me in a mini-spiral. This started out as a small rant and grew into some kind of neverending story so feel free to skip it. I was doom-scrolling on Instagram last night (as one does) and I came across this course: 7 Figure Blueprint. Y’all may not know this about me, but your girl is a course junkie. If there’s a class, I’mma take it. Whether it's writing, spirituality, business admin, marketing…anything. I want to learn it all. So when I saw it was $27, I was like, what the fuck, why not. Treat yo’ self. Once I navigated through all the “but wait, there’s more” sales pages, I finally got my email.The email prompted me to give them my full (real) name, my birthday, my time of birth, and my place of birth. That’s it. From that information, it spit out my Human Design profile.What’s that exactly? They describe it as a user manual for your energy. It mixes astrology, chakras, the I Ching, and even quantum physics. Which is wild, right? The report was long and in-depth and interactive. At first, it gave me all my chart info…probably to prove it wasn’t pulling from anything else to influence the results.But when they spit out my report, I was actually kind of shook. Not only because it was spookily accurate about my past, but because it said things that have been said to me word for word almost my entire life. It’s been weirdly affirming…but also kind of intimidating.I’ve been into astrology and manifestation since I was a child. I come from a very pagan household with a heavy dose of Irish superstition and faerie lore. But Human Design wasn’t even in my vocabulary. Still, as previously stated, I want to learn everything, know everything, and deeply ruminate on everything. Especially if it offers insight into my own broken brain.I’ve always considered myself the conductor of the hot mess express, and this acknowledged that, but in a way I wasn’t expecting. I spend my life walking a tightrope between logic and mysticism. My Virgo sun and Gemini moon be battling it out daily. Never mind my Leo rising (hello, attention-seeking). Anyway, the point is, it nailed that about me instantly. But that wasn’t all.I’m gonna share some of the things it said, but let me preface this by saying that what it said about me is so “over the top” in terms of my purpose that I made everyone in my family take the test just to make sure they weren’t giving out the same sweeping ‘chosen one’ fiction arc to everyone. And it turns out... it was spooky-accurate for them too.My results in a nutshell:According to Human Design, I’m a Manifestor, meaning I’m here to spark things — not grind nonstop. I’m built to initiate, then rest. Wild, right? Because that’s been my pattern my whole life (hence the bipolar disorder diagnosis until I was an adult). I’ve always written in bursts, worked in bursts, and then gone literally brain dead for a week or more. I’ve always hated that about myself. But according to this, it’s not only not bad, it’s literally written into my coding.My authority is Emotional, which means I’m not designed to make big decisions in the moment. I need time to ride out my emotional waves to gain clarity. Which explains so much about me.But here’s the part that kind of blew my mind: I’m a 6/3 profile.If you’re asking what the fuck is that?...rest assured, so was I.This is where things got precision-point accurate. 6/3 is the Role Model/Martyr.(And if you think I wasn’t low-key offended by the term martyr, you’d be incorrect. I was like, “I know… but hey!”)Anyway, according to the report, the 6/3 profile means I live my first 30 years by trial and error (basically, my first thirty years were a train wreck of abuse, bullying, trauma, and raising myself). After I hit thirty, I retreated a bit to process (my hermit era), which I’m only now peeking my head out from. But at the age of fifty, I emerge with wisdom, not because I read it in a book, but because I lived it. As someone who is turning 49 in six weeks, this was both comforting and intimidating. People with this profile are here to be deeply human. Messy. Honest. Then figure it out and teach others through experience.  It’s not about perfection — it’s about resonance. Which is… very me. I live my life on vibes. I tend to just know things. My internal bullshit detector is never wrong. And I was told just yesterday by someone I respect greatly that I have a calming, comforting presence and realness about me. (Jesus, this sounds like bragging but I’m truly just trying to process this) As for Gene Keys?If Human Design is the user manual, Gene Keys is the poetry. (Their analogy, not mine) A universal frequency map,  showing you your shadows, your gifts, your highest potential. It’s not about ‘fixing’ yourself. It’s about unlocking the codes that were already inside you. It’s like a mythic story about your soul’s purpose and pain, told in archetypes and frequency, not judgment.For example:

One of my keys (Gate 47) is all about transforming oppression into transmutation and epiphany.

Another (Gate 22) turns emotional turbulence into grace.

I could go on (it was a 60+ page deep dive into my coding), but some things genuinely spooked me,  because they were things I never shared with people outside my family. But I’m gonna tell you guys. Because what the hell. You’ll either believe me or you won’t. (Though my friend Christa is on this Patreon and can probably vouch for some of this.)So here’s the weird shit:From the time I was little, I had a weird energy around me. I could hear the electricity in the walls. (Yes, I know that’s also an autism trait.) But I also had problems being around anything with electronics or magnets. Watches would break. Electronics would fry. Crystals would shatter. My mom used to say I was just vibrating on a different frequency. My dad used to say I was just trying to get out of sleeping alone.When I was older, I realized my family also had strange things they couldn’t explain. My sister would answer the phone before it rang and knew who was on the other line. My mom could tell when people were going to die. She explained that their faces would look like skulls to her. It sounded nuts, but my mom was not the type to make shit up. And she only told our family, not even her friends. It was something she could do since she was little and, when she told my superstitious (and schizophrenic) grandmother she didn’t take it well. So she learned to keep quiet. So why lie?One day when I was eleven, I watched her standing in the kitchen. She looked over her shoulder and said, “I just saw Iggy. He was saying goodbye.” Our cat was at the vet’s office getting treatment. Ten minutes later, the vet called to say he died. But that wasn’t the only thing. I’m gonna drop some family lore on you now. My origin story, if you will. It’s a bit meandering, so if it’s boring, I apologize, but there’s a point. I swear.My mom met my dad working at a Boston car dealership. She was twenty. He was thirty-four, divorced with four kids. He was also dating a model…very pretty, but reportedly a bitch. (Per my mom, who was crushing on him, so grain of salt.)Before you go thinking my dad was some kind of cradle-robber, he told my mom no numerous times, not because he didn’t find her attractive, but because he didn’t want to saddle her with child support payments and four kids. My mom, a Leo, was undeterred. She sabotaged his dates, spilled coffee on his girlfriend, and even tricked him into their first date.The date is the point. The rest is just delightful chaos.My dad was the car salesman you see in every 50s/60s movie. He was wildly successful. But before he’d won the top award for like the sixth time, my mom said, “If you win, you have to take me on a date.”He was like, “Yeah, sure, kid.”Well. He won.She showed up at the end of the workday dressed for their date. He was too much of a gentleman to say no. Which she was banking on. (My mom was quiet but a master manipulator)They walk to a hunter green demo car in the lot, a sleek little convertible. Cool as hell. Perfect date car.My mom hops in, sits for thirty seconds, then gets right back out. Looks him dead in the face and says, “Someone’s going to die in this car.”My dad—to his credit—says nothing, picks another car.They go on the date. Get married six weeks later.A few months pass, then a man walks in,  buys that convertible in cash… and drives it off a bridge. Supposedly, on purpose. After that, my dad took whatever my mom said as gospel.Last story before we bring it back to me.My niece once had a few too many drinks and called me. Mid-deep esoteric spiral, she said something I’ll never forget, and that she still doesn’t remember ever saying.She said, “I think you were born to shoulder all the karmic pain for our family, so the rest of us could live and have a good life without the suffering you’ve had.”I was like, damn, WTF. That’s bleak. Even if at the time it felt very true and very depressing. But then my report said this:“This placement connects you to collective suffering and karmic patterns. You may absorb societal fears, generational shame, or global grief–even when it’s not yours. This can feel heavy, but it’s also sacred: you’re a witness of the soul’s long arc toward wholeness.”Mind. Blown.Now for me,  and the weirdly inexplicable way I can pluck thoughts from people’s heads.Technically, what I have is called clairsentience. I just know things. (Me and Tyrion Lannister, lmao.) The moment I meet someone, I know if they’re a liar, a creep, a narcissist. Could be CPTSD. Could be autism. Could be witchcraft. But the thought thing? That spooks people.I can literally say someone’s thoughts before they say them. Christa can confirm. I do it to her constantly, and she’s in another country.It’s a regular occurrence in our house for me to randomly crave food I don’t like and have my daughter ask for it ten minutes later. Or to sing songs I don’t know, only for someone to say, “I was just singing that part in my head.” I tend to steal punchlines to people’s jokes, say something they were going to say verbatim before they say it, stealing their thunder. The problem is, I don’t realize that I’m doing it. It just happens. My family is used to it. My exes hated it. My friends think its a cool parlor trick. I’ve had numerous psychics and mediums  tell me I’m clairsentient without prompting. A few have said I’m “surrounded by angels.” Which is kind of funny because I’m not a huge believer in angels. I believe in energy. I believe we can manipulate that energy. I believe there’s a higher power responsible for creation because the math and science back it up. Simple pattern recognition.I am both logic and magic.If you’re still here, I’m impressed.I tell you all this because it was all in that report. Only it used words like mystic, muse, transmute, transcendence.  It said I’m a disruptor. That I’m changing the world with my writing. (Imagine changing the world with gay psychopaths and omegaverse). But it said my books provide comfort, that they change the way people think about things. They said I’m making change in the world I don’t see and that I’m only getting started. It even brought up jobs in communication, writing, teaching, research, and healing as potential job fields. Check. Check. Check. And check. I’ve worked in all of them. All that to say… Guys…I think I’m a cult leader now, guys. Does anyone want to join? I could maybe get us matching t-shirts? Is that a thing? Maybe we could even get our own commune? If you want to play around with your own Human Design or Gene Keys, I can try to find links that aren’t so business-coded. But if you want to hear more about any of the rambling above, just shout it out.In the meantime, let me be your witchy, exhausted, slightly feral guide to all things book and writing related.