Guilt is a heavy burden. It’s a quiet parasite, a thorn lodged deep in the softest flesh of joy.
I was “bad” once—bad as a maiden, as a lover, as a mother. I chased euphoria more than wisdom. I poisoned my temple with what I put in my body, and with the words I spat out of it. I broke commandments, broke laws, broke people. I judged. I lied. I held grudges sharp enough to cut. I let responsibilities rot on the vine while I watered my own hunger. I hurt myself, and I liked it. I let others hurt me, and I liked that, too.
I never killed, but don’t think the thought didn’t haunt me. As a veteran, I studied a hundred ways to get it done. I knew the mechanics, the logistics, the angles. And yes, I’ve been selfish. Yes, I’ve been proud.
If you’re reading this in disgust and asking, “How can she call herself a priestess?”—I invite you to reread that confession, slow. Turn over each sin, hold it to the light, and then dare to hold your own past to the same scrutiny. You don’t need to write it down like I have. You don’t even need to speak it aloud. Just ask yourself quietly: have I done the same?
The answer, beloved, is yes. You have. Because you’re human.
And here’s the truth: guilt convinces you that you’re alone, that your darkness is unique. But you’re not alone. And the lie of solitude is what chains you tighter to the guilt.
Let me remind you of what you’ve done far more often than you’ve sinned:
You’ve loved until your chest ached.
You’ve healed, apologized, and forgiven.
You’ve steadied someone else’s storm.
You’ve witnessed pain and made space for it.
You’ve celebrated triumphs that weren’t your own.
You’ve prayed for someone—even selfishly—and those prayers were still heard.
You’ve smiled at children, blessed animals with your touch, and eaten the earth’s fruit with reverence.
That, too, is you.
You are sovereign. If you don’t believe in a Creator, then believe at least in evolution—that millions of years of survival and adaptation have carved you into something exquisite. Your body is a cathedral of complexity. It makes a Swiss watch look like a rock on a string. Precious. Rare. Worth reverence.
And if you do believe in a Creator, then know this: He delights in you. He delights in your joy and breaks for your pain. He does not tally your sins like debts. He only waits for you to release the guilt you clutch like a stone.
Because guilt has one holy purpose: to signal you when a behavior must change. That’s it. Beyond that, it’s no altar. It’s no trough for wallowing. Once you’ve heard guilt’s lesson, thank it and release it.
And when you forget, as humans do? Let my talismans whisper it back to you. You are worthy of joy. Worthy of bliss. Worthy of the sovereignty already burning in your marrow.
0 comments