Felicia explores the everyday altar of motherhood—where care becomes love when it’s shared, not hoarded. Through a Dark Goddess lens (Dancing in the Flames), she reframes “self-sacrifice” as a broken cauldron and argues for boundaries, shared labor, and the courage to receive as prerequisites for giving. Pop-culture moments (a “Gatsby gala,” The Hunger Games, and “They were careless people”) help teach our kids what not to emulate—and what to build instead.

What you’ll hear:

Children as initiations, not nuisances

The altar vs. the martyr: why love requires reciprocity

Grief, regret, and the tenderness of shared care

The Dark Goddess as a guide to wholeness (laundry-room altars, Baba Yaga questions)

Why boundaries, rest, and pleasure keep the “cauldron” from cracking

Teaching discernment in a spectacle-driven culture

References & resources:

Marion Woodman & Elinor Dickson, Dancing in the Flames: The Dark Goddess in the Transformation of Consciousness

F. Scott Fitzgerald, The Great Gatsby (“They were careless people…”)

Suzanne Collins, The Hunger Games (the Capitol as spectacle)

Takeaways:

Caring is love’s teacher—but only when it’s shared.

You can’t pour from an empty body; you also can’t pour if you never receive.

Ordinary rooms can be altars; ordinary tasks can be rituals.

Our magic isn’t gone—it’s waiting for a stronger pot.

If this moved you, share it with one friend who’s carrying too much—and subscribe on Substack for essays, early drops, and members-only conversations.

Felicia reflects on the question, “Why did you get divorced?” and traces an answer through embodied pleasure, the deadness she refused, and the ways women’s sexuality is outsourced and commodified. An intimate meditation on erotic aliveness, consent, and coming home to the Divinity inside our cells.

Key Takeaways

Self-pleasure can be a practice of presence, not performance.

Women’s sexuality is often commodified and policed; liberation must be self-owned, not traded.

Erotic aliveness counters numbness and “deadness,” reconnecting imagination, emotion, and sensation.

Safety is the precondition for opening; the body tells the truth first.

Halloween, divorce, and the everyday test of wills. In this tender solo, Felicia invites us into the messy middle—the school parade you weren’t ready for, the “you’re so strong” comments that land sideways, and the private moments where the storm threatens to rip you to pieces. This is an episode about soul-holding: tiny acts that keep us human when the to-do list stretches to infinity. Not a bypass. Not grit theatre. Practice.

We talk about: letting pain move so it doesn’t poison you; why one small action unlocks big ones; how to “do what I can and let go of what I can’t”; and the quiet grace of being held—by a brother’s “I got you, sis,” by a hug, by your own steady breath.

If you’re walking through something hard today, come sit with this one.