I didn’t know what I wanted to be as a child.

Every time I was asked, I remember thinking, I just want to be happy.
Even then, I was obsessed with the feeling of inner harmony - that quiet sense of coherence, when your life matches your spirit and you’re not at war with yourself.

That obsession never left, it just grew up with me.

I built a conscious fashion business, I became a mother, I learned how to hold teams, timelines, money, beauty, and responsibility. Alongside all of that, something quieter was happening - an inner life sharpening, listening, remembering.

For a long time, I kept those worlds separate: The visible and the invisible. The practical and the intuitive. The work that could be named, and the work that couldn’t.

Eventually, that separation stopped making sense.

My spirituality isn’t abstract. It’s lived. Shaped by devotion and disruption, by paying attention, by staying when it would have been easier to leave. Call it intuition, or discernment — call it an Oracle if you like. I’m less interested in the title than in the accuracy.

Somewhere along the way, I stopped shrinking the word Priestess to make it more digestible. It became less about mystique, and more about function: the Priestess of Remembrance - holding the light of divinity steady enough that it activates in others too.

I write from here, I work from here. Sometimes as an advisor. Sometimes as a guide. Sometimes simply as a woman who knows the terrain well enough to recognise it when others arrive.

The women I meet are often capable, accomplished, and quietly questioning -  not necessarily because something is wrong, but because something is ready.

This space holds that conversation. Through writing, offered tools, private work, and shared moments of clarity.

If you’re here, you may already recognise the feeling.