An Intentional Death to Thyself

My intention-setting journey truly started after reading The Intention Experiment. Listening to studies conducted throughout history helped me realize something profound: I hadn’t been paying enough attention to the intentions I was applying to my inner and outer world. I had been letting life happen to me, reacting to situations instead of consciously shaping my path. Through these studies, I learned how intention holds the power to transform not only our experiences but the very fabric of our relationships.

In 2020, I experienced what can only be described as the greatest death of an old version of myself. As blood poured from me, new life filled my veins, and I was reborn into a reality that I didn’t recognize. My life, as I knew it, shattered under the weight of trauma. I was forced to confront a kind of deep loss and emotional unraveling that changed me in ways I couldn’t have predicted. In those raw, painful moments, I realized how little I truly understood about my own intentions prior to that point.

The trauma left me covered in old coping mechanisms, those survival tactics I’d held onto for so long. As the wounds from my childhood resurfaced, they collided with the emotional chaos of the present. The intensity of this moment in my life made everything feel amplified, as if the past and present were merging into one overwhelming force. It was in this darkest of times that I began to see how much I had buried under layers of denial, how much of my life I had lived on autopilot without truly questioning my intentions or how they shaped the life I was living.

“It is what you choose not to observe in your life that controls your life.” - Lynn Andrews, Jaguar Woman

This period of immense pain became a catalyst for change—a forced reckoning with myself. Through the struggle and loss, I came face to face with the truth of who I had been and the parts of me that were ready to die away so that something new could emerge. My old self, the one defined by past trauma, was no longer serving me, and in order to grow, I had to let go.

The journey was not easy. It never is when you confront the rawest parts of your soul. But in that destruction, there was a deep and profound rebirth—an invitation to realign, heal, and shift my intentions towards a life that felt authentic and purposeful. It wasn’t about what I could fix, but rather what I needed to release. This “death” of my old self wasn’t the end. It was the beginning of a more intentional, conscious version of me, ready to step into the unknown and create a future that was true to who I was becoming.

I believe learning to set the right intention has helped me navigate many of the conflicts I faced in my marriage. Before meeting my husband, I spent most of my twenties avoiding relationships, afraid of the vulnerability they demanded. I thought that leaving would solve everything, and I found ways, some times dramatic, to escape the discomfort of conflict. But when I got married, those old habits reared their ugly head. When things got tough, my instinct was to run. It took conscious effort to pause, breathe, and examine the true intentions behind my words and actions.

As John Gottman describes in his work on relationship dynamics, the “four horsemen” of criticism, defensiveness, contempt, and stonewalling can slowly destroy a marriage. I found myself fighting against these destructive patterns by intentionally choosing a different path. I decided to create a space of vulnerability instead of retreating into defensiveness, and this has been transformative not just for my relationship, but for my own personal growth as well.

But let’s be real—setting authentic intentions isn’t always easy. At times, it felt like I was walking through a maze of emotions, with twisty turns trying to block me from truly healing. As carefully as I could, I monitored my intentions, ensuring they didn’t invalidate my feelings or emotional state. For example, when I think, “I’m going to be with my husband unconditionally, no matter what,” I recognize how harmful that can be. It denies both his humanity and mine. Instead, a more grounded and empowering intention turned out to be: “We must communicate openly and respectfully, setting boundaries that honor both our needs and our relationship.”

The real struggle often lies in the moments when my ego interferes. I tend to fall back into the victim mindset—something I’ve carried with me since childhood. It’s a survival mechanism, an armor I’ve worn to protect myself from pain. But in marriage, in life, and in growth, I can’t afford to let my blind ego take the lead. When I catch myself slipping into this familiar space, I remind myself to realign with my higher intention: to grow, to learn, and to face challenges with grace.

I know I’m not the only one who struggles with these inner conflicts. Perhaps, like me, you’ve found yourself caught between your desire for peace and the pull of past patterns. This is why I continue to practice setting intentions—it’s my daily commitment to growing through those challenges, even when it feels difficult. I remember the words of Rhonda Byrne in The Power: “The more you focus on the good, the more the good will come into your life. The law of attraction is the law of vibration, and everything is vibration.” The energy we put out into the world, in our relationships and our self-talk, reflects back to us in the most beautiful and unexpected ways.

I’ve learned that my intentions are a reflection of my deeper desires and truths, and they serve as a guide to help me stay true to who I am becoming. Transcending the Levels of Consciousness teaches us that our intentions must come from a place of alignment with our highest self. This isn’t just about wishing for something—we’re talking about embodying the change we want to see in the world. It’s about walking the talk, staying grounded, and letting go of the things that no longer serve us.

This includes our pain.

The most powerful shift came when I stopped viewing challenges as obstacles to my happiness and began seeing them as opportunities for growth. When I find myself in a difficult situation, I simply ask, “How can I grow through this?” And that question alone helps me step into my power and start to shift the energy around me.

Reflecting on the trauma of 2020, I see now how much of my pain was necessary, I recognized that setting intentionality around my healing became an act of reclaiming my power. It wasn’t just about moving through the trauma—it was about finding the intentions that had brought me there. I began to see that intention-setting was not just for the good moments but was essential during the hardest ones as well. My grief and sorrow were not roadblocks, but invitations to realign with my truest self.

I know you might be reading this and thinking: It’s easier said than done. I get it. I’ve been there. But what I’ve learned is that our intentions create the foundation for everything we do. The more we fine-tune them, the more we align with the life we are meant to create. Setting intentions is not just about asking for what we want—it’s not live, love, laugh. Setting intentions is about letting go of fear, stepping into vulnerability, and knowing that every step you take toward growth is a step you take toward your highest self. You’re not alone in this process. We are all learning, evolving, and striving to become the best versions of ourselves.

As we approach the full moon on January 13th 2025, the energy of this phase calls for a letting go. The full moon is a powerful time for setting intentions and planning for what you want to stop manifesting in the coming year. It is an opportunity to reflect on what no longer serves us and to clear the space for new beginnings.

The full moon invites us to step into the unknown, to trust the journey ahead, and to honor our desires with clarity and authenticity. This is the perfect time to realign with your purpose and consciously create the life you want to live in 2025. Just as we’ve reflected on our intentions throughout this post, now is the time to embrace this cosmic energy to solidify those intentions. .

In Jaguar Woman, Lynn Andrews reminds us that “Death is necessary to give birth to the new.” Just as the jaguar sheds its skin to grow, we, too, must release the past and let go of outdated beliefs or patterns. The full moon symbolizes this death and rebirth—an invitation to leave behind what no longer serves us and embrace the new year with open arms and a renewed sense of purpose.