The Night I Remembered Me
There was a time in my life when I’d shaped myself into someone else completely.
I was in a 6-year marriage during which I slowly gave away parts of myself, and became the woman I'd married. I mirrored her haircut (short and choppy). Her clothes (very butch). I distanced myself from family and friends, and started to replace my beloved dance career with her interests. Honestly, I loved and enjoyed who we were together.
But some part of me knew: I had gone missing.
We were in Thailand for a few months, trying to hold things together after I’d had a brief connection with a man. I wasn't consciously trying to end the marriage — but it was a bomb, and I dropped it because part of me knew it needed to happen. We decided to live separately on different parts of an island, writing emails, trying to process and repair.
One night, a popup nightclub opened near the healing sanctuary where I was staying. A new friend offered me a filmy skirt to wear. I borrowed a silky scarf and wrapped it around my head, letting it trail down my back. Dancing alone, barefoot under the stars, I allowed my remembrance.
I felt the scarf brushing against my back: the ghost of my own flowing hair.
I felt soft. Open.
I listened as Spirit spoke in and through and to me.
I let myself be danced, each movement a deeper medicine of clear vision, release, frequency refinement, and homecoming.
And suddenly — I was back.
Something sacred and true reawakened in me that night.
The feminine one. The sensuous one. The connective one. The creative one.
All the parts of me that had gone missing came rushing home.
That dance was the turning point.
Over the days and weeks and months that followed, I stopped trying to fix the relationship and instead worked toward a peaceful ending. I stopped abandoning myself — and forgave myself for ever having done it. I looked at the walls I'd built around my center, learned how they'd served or hindered me, and felt gratitude for all of it. I listened for my feelings, my needs, my desires. I reconnected with Spirit and let it guide.
And I began to live from a place that was all mine.
Holy, and whole.
It wasn’t just the end of a marriage.
It was the beginning of me.
The healing work I offer isn’t therapy.
It’s not about fixing what’s wrong, or talking your way into clarity.
It’s a coherent, vibrational field — a space of deep presence and attunement.
In this field, your entire being begins to reconfigure around your wholeness.
RECLAIM is a private healing container for the woman who knows something in her life is changing — and that she’s changing too.
If you're feeling the pull, I'd love to walk with you.
There's one space left.
May this process ignite love for yourself and for life.
With love,
Aowyn
