Goddess of the Hunt

During my time of trauma, destiny introduced me to yet another woman who would leave a profound mark on my life. Where one friend had brought love and laughter, this woman—Diana Goddess of the Hunt—taught me to harness my inner strength and "get it together." She was a fierce presence, a vision of stoic beauty with a demeanor that was calm yet utterly commanding. She carried herself with a blunt, cutthroat honesty that left no room for pretense. Her confidence was magnetic, the kind that made men wonder, Could she ever admire me?

Diana taught me lessons I hadn’t known I needed, and she did so through the often-misunderstood power of envy. Envy is so often viewed as a corrosive force, but I believe it gets a bad rap. It can be a powerful tool—a spotlight illuminating the parts of ourselves that are yearning to evolve.

As Lynn Andrews writes, “Envy is a map. It points to the places where you are being called to grow and expand into your true self.”

I envied so much about Diana. I envied the elegance of her apartment, the depth of her artistic talent, and the way she could effortlessly strike a sultry pose as if confidence flowed naturally in her veins. I envied her emotional poise and the high-value standards she held for herself, never wavering. These weren’t just superficial qualities; they were reflections of a life lived with intention, self-respect, and clarity.

At the time of meeting her, I was at the lowest of my lows, after my sexual trauma. In many ways, I was faking my confidence and hoping that would magically make it appear in me. During photoshoots, I’d overcompensate, trying too hard to exude a sense of self-assuredness I didn’t yet feel. But Diana saw right through that. She didn’t judge me for it; instead, she became a mirror, reflecting back the person I was capable of becoming.

I’ve always turned to books and ideas to navigate life’s challenges, a practice I began at 17 after reading Battlefield of the Mind by Joyce Meyer. That book taught me an essential truth that resonates deeply with Diana’s story: our thoughts and emotions don’t exist in isolation. They’re signals, clues to follow, much like the scent on a hunter’s trail. Each strong emotion—especially envy—leads us deeper into understanding what our soul truly desires. As Penny Pierce writes in Frequency, “Envy reveals the resonances you are unconsciously attuned to. It points to your soul's longing to vibrate at a new, higher level of expression.”

Through Diana’s example, I learned to lean into those feelings of envy. They weren’t telling me to become her or to mimic her life. Instead, they were asking me to honor the traits within myself that resonated with hers. I didn’t want to recreate her art, but her thoughtfully crafted pieces inspired me to put more intention and soul into my own creations. Even now, I envy her ability to take stunningly sultry photos with ease, but like her, I’ve learned that not everything needs to be shared with the world. Some beauty is meant to be private, sacred, kept for the ones who matter most.

In The Language of Archetypes, Caroline Myss describes the Huntress archetype as “a force of independence and focused determination, capable of pursuing her goals with a clarity of purpose that leaves no room for hesitation.” That was Diana: a relentless pursuer of her soul’s calling, traveling the world with a majestic kind of strength and grace. She shared glimpses of her journey with me—photos of breathtaking landscapes, quiet moments of reflection—but never with the world at large. She didn’t need external validation. Her life was her own masterpiece, and I felt privileged to witness even a fragment of it.

In my wounded state, walking through the shadows of my sexual trauma, Diana’s example gave me permission to hunt my own shadows. She taught me not to fear them but to embrace the strength required to confront them head-on. As Caroline Myss writes in Sacred Contracts, “The Huntress represents the part of us that seeks not just survival but excellence. She reminds us that in the wilderness of our own challenges, we can still find beauty and purpose.”

Diana’s art pushed me in the best way possible. Her high standards and unwavering self-respect inspired me to raise my own bar—not just in my creative endeavors but in how I carried myself and what I allowed into my life. As I moved through my sexual trauma, I realized that envy had been a guide all along. It wasn’t asking me to covet Diana’s life but to rise to the challenge of my own potential.

Diana of the Hunt remains a fierce and beautiful influence on my story. Her stoicism, her standards, and her soul-deep artistry taught me what it means to walk through life with intention and grace. And though envy may have been the spark that ignited my transformation, it was the strength of her example that gave me the courage to follow through.