The Story of My Ego Death and Full Circle Healing

Two years ago, I went to Florida for Tracy Litt’s annual retreat. I’ve been part of her event for years now, and it’s been incredibly transformational for me as a healer and leader. This was the final year, and I wanted to show up in full service. But something unexpected happened. On the first day, during introductions, Tracy went around the room acknowledging her team, the beautiful women who supported her work.

And when she got to me, she didn’t say anything. She looked right at me and moved on.

My whole body shut down. It was immediate. I felt like a five-year-old girl who just disappeared in a room full of people. I wanted to bolt.

And when we finally had a break, I ran to the beach and cried. Deep, heaving sobs. I knew this wasn’t just about being overlooked. This was something deeper, something that had lived in my body for a long time.

As I sat there crying into the waves, I asked God, "What is this?" And I heard it clearly:

"Who you are becoming cannot seek outside validation."

It hit me like a wave. This pain, this ache, this trigger, it was revealing something. A pattern. A wound. A belief I didn’t even know I was still carrying. The part of me that had been looking for applause, affirmation and acknowledgment.

And as much as I wanted to run from the discomfort, I stayed with it. I swam in the rain. I cried. I stretched. I prayed. I let my body remember its own divinity. I let it all rise and release. And when I stood in front of those women the next day to guide them through breathwork, I did it from a place of deep inner knowing.

There was no applause that could match the power of the peace I felt in my body.

I came home and got sick. Like, truly sick. Days of my body purging, releasing, integrating everything I had felt and seen. I knew it wasn’t just physical. It was energetic. A clearing.

And then, another layer revealed itself.

My friend Amanita and I had planned to host a mystical breathwork experience with mushroom tea. No one signed up. But she reached out and said, "Do you still want to do it, just us?" She had a new DMT blend from a medicine man she trusted, and she wanted to explore it together.

So we did.

I had no idea what I was walking into, but I trusted her.

The experience was beyond words. The DMT opened me, and then the breath took me the rest of the way. I found myself intuitively breathing, stretching my fascia, unlocking the energetic pathways from my heart to my crown.

And then I received the message:

"Holy Spirit, Light of God exists within you. It is your purpose to know that and bring that out in others."

When I asked how, the answer came: "Through the breath of life."

So I breathed. Deeper than before. And in that breath, God took me back to being five years old, at my granny’s church. I remembered the moment I spoke in tongues for the first time. I remembered how everyone around me clapped and celebrated. How that moment, that pure connection to Spirit, became tied to external praise.

And in that moment, a belief was formed: If I am divine, I will be celebrated.

And so I spent my life chasing that feeling. Not the divinity itself, but the celebration that followed it.

That belief was still living inside me, quietly, subtly.

Until Tracy didn't clap.

Until I sat crying on the beach.

Until I breathed with God.

Until it was ready to be released.

And then, Mother Earth spoke. I heard her music through the ground, and I laid face down, my ear to the earth. She told me:

"I want to make love to you. But to make love, you must be love. And to be love, you must dissolve everything else."

So she began taking pieces of me away. Energies. Patterns. Identities. One by one. Some I gave willingly. Others I clung to.

And then she reached for something I didn’t want to let go of.

"If you take that," I said, "then who am I?"

"Let me show you," she whispered.

So I surrendered.

And I wept. I crumbled. I let it go.

And what was left was just love.

Stripped of identity, stripped of roles, stripped of applause and validation, I was just love. Pure and holy. Me.

I didn’t know who I was then, but that’s the point.

I had been emptied so I could be filled with truth.

And the message remains:

"Holy Spirit, Light of God exists within you. It is your purpose to know that and bring that out in others."

But first, I had to know it for myself.

Not because anyone clapped. Not because I was seen. But because it is who I am.

And that’s when the real journey began.

I felt God pressing His forehead to mine, saying, "I’m here. Let’s do this together. Meet me at the altar every day, and I will show you."

So I did.

And I do.

Because this love, this wholeness, this holiness, it is real. And it is enough.

I am the celebration. I am the light. I am the love.

And so are you.