The Mystic Leo Medicine: Unapologetic Authenticity

Some people walk into your life, and you just know—they are meant to be there. They don't tiptoe in or quietly take up space. They arrive in full force, bold and unshaken, with an energy so powerful that it changes you.

That's who this is about.

A woman who doesn't just shine in the light but knows how to navigate the dark. A woman who doesn't shrink herself to make others comfortable. A woman who walks in her truth, no matter who is watching.

And, in Whitney's case—sometimes, it's not just the living who are watching.

The Leo Who Walks in Her Power

When I met Whitney, she was stepping into the most authentic version of herself. She was done following external expectations, done dimming her light for the comfort of others. She was tuning into her own intuition and letting it guide her without hesitation.

If you've ever stood beside someone as they truly step into their power, you know how electric that is. It makes you stop, watch, and feel something stir inside yourself—a challenge, a reminder, a call to do the same.

That's the thing about Whitney—she doesn't just hold power; she amplifies it in others. Her energy, her fire, her fearless way of moving through life—it forces you to look at yourself and ask:

• What am I still holding back?

• Where am I still afraid to be fully me?

• What would happen if I let go of the fear?

  
  

Because Whitney? She doesn't apologize for her emotions. She doesn't second-guess her truth. She doesn't play small to fit into spaces that don't deserve her.

She's the kind of Leo who commands the room without trying. The kind who isn't afraid to let her fire burn bright—even if it makes others uncomfortable.

The Aries Meets the Leo

Now, let's talk about me for a second. I'm an Aries, which means I have my own fire, my own stubborn streak, my own instinct to take charge. So naturally, meeting Whitney was… a challenge.

Leo and Aries together? It's fire meets fire. Two people who want to lead. Two people who don't like being told what to do. Two people who, when they don't get their way, can get a little… child-like.

So when I first met Whitney, I assumed she wouldn't like me.

I always think that when I meet powerful women. I see their strength, their confidence, their undeniable energy, and I think, Wow, she's amazing. She's not going to want to hang out with me.

But Whitney? She proved me wrong. She didn't just let me in—she saw me. And when a Leo sees you, really sees you, you can't hide from yourself anymore.

Before Whitney, I had learned to be reserved. To keep my story close, to not disrupt other people's energy with my truth. To sit with my past quietly, unsure of whether sharing it would be too much.

Because my truth? It's heavy.

The Truth That Feels Like Oversharing

Even now, when people ask about my childhood or my first few years in Bermuda, I hesitate. Because my truth? It’s heavy. It wasn’t all happiness and adventure. There were happy moments, of course, but there was also a lot of darkness. A lot of pain. A lot of moments that don’t fit into a neat, socially acceptable conversation.

So when I share my truth, it often feels like oversharing.

And that’s uncomfortable—not just for me, but for others. Because people expect easy answers, lighthearted stories. They don’t expect weight, grief, or trauma.

Before Bermuda it seemed easier to hold my truth in, because it was my childhood, at a time when I had zero control. I honestly, believed it had very little affect on my life or choices.

The Mystic

Whitney isn't just intuitive; she's connected. She has a way of tapping into something beyond—the kind of energy that makes you pause, that makes the hairs on your arms stand up, that makes you wonder how much of this life we actually understand.

She can speak to the dead. A medium, a messenger, a bridge between worlds. She reads cards with an accuracy that will make you empowered for what's ahead, and she can reach out to loved ones who have passed on with an ease that is both breathtaking and chilling.

Before I moved to Bermuda, I sought her counsel. And, like a true Aries, I ignored it completely.

Her message was simple: You don't have to walk through this again. You've already lived it. You don't need to repeat it.

But I did. I walked right back through my childhood traumas. I went skipping into the fire. I giggled at the challenge, and shrugged it off. I took the harder road. And looking back, I think I needed to.

Because maybe she was right—I didn't have to go through it again. But maybe I needed to, so I could finally heal from it. Maybe I was always destined to be the wounded healer.

Now, I'm in Bermuda. I've created a life I love, with an amazing family and dream boat.

The Light, The Shadow, and Everything In Between

Here's the thing: I'm not this person all the time.

Sometimes, I falter. Sometimes, I go back to that mentality of holding back my truth. Sometimes, I don't feel brave in the moment. Sometimes, I need time to process before I speak. Sometimes I speak before processing.

And that's part of growth, too.

Because there's always a shadow behind the light. There's always a balance, a push and pull. There's no need to be perfect or have a perfect life. You can walk through terrible, shameful things and still hold your head high.

That's something I think about a lot here in Bermuda. As beautiful as this place is, socially? It can feel like you're living in your own TV show. It's a small town. Everyone knows everyone. Reputation matters. I get it—you have to live here. You have to deal with the reality that not everyone is going to like you. But the shame energy is so strong in Bermuda. Terrible things get swept under the rug so often because it disrupts the illusion others fight to maintain. The truth has the power to destroy reputations of everyone involved.

Especially if you're speaking your truth.

Especially if you're making big splashes in a small pond..

But there is freedom in speaking up. There is power in owning your story. There is energy that gets released when you finally let go of the fear of being too much. Too human for those not wanting to acknowledge life has a shadow.

This is the medicine I received from my friend, Whitney.

I hope you can feel her empowering energy in you, Friend.

The Fire That Transforms

You are not your trauma or your past, and it does not define you.

You can speak about it without shame or guilt.

It can be the very fire that transforms your story and propels you forward—into a life where you are surrounded by people who love you fully, both your light and your shadow. A life where you no longer feel the need to put on a protective mask.

A life where you can finally, fully, unapologetically be you.