The Witch Archetype: Remembering What Was Suppressed

A witch is not just a figure of folklore or fantasy... she is a symbol of rebellion, wisdom, and unapologetic existence. Historically, witches were often women who defied the norms of their time: medicine women, healers, midwives, and seers who held ancient knowledge about the body, the earth, and the cycles of life. They were women who understood the healing power of plants, who trusted their intuition, who lived outside the constraints of rigid social roles.

But their power threatened the structures that sought to control them. To be a witch was to be labeled dangerous simply for being deeply connected to one’s body, sexuality, and natural instincts. It was to embody a wildness that could not be tamed. It was to have wisdom that could not be silenced. And because of this, countless women were persecuted, burned at the stake, or shunned, not for doing harm, but for daring to be powerful and free.

The witch archetype reminds us of the cost of being fully ourselves in a world that often fears powerful women. It carries the legacy of those who suffered for their independence and sensuality, and it whispers to us to reclaim that wildness within. To live boldly, to heal ourselves and each other, to honour our sexuality as sacred, and to speak our truth even when it is uncomfortable.

To embrace the witch within is to acknowledge that your power, wisdom, intuition, and unapologetic presence are not something to fear and you are allowed to take up space. 🌱✨

Catching Myself Before Expecting Others to Catch Me

Have you ever unleashed your emotions onto someone without realising they weren’t ready to catch them? I have. And here’s what I’ve learned.

For most of my life, I’ve felt things deeply but in my family I learnt to push that down and supress.

When I began my embodiment journey, when I stopped pushing down feelings and actually let them surface, it was like a dam bursting. Thirty-something years of grief, rage, sadness, confusion... rushing up all at once. I couldn’t keep it inside. I had a tendency to overshare, to unload the heavy stuff onto whoever was nearest without first checking if they had the space for it. I wanted to tell someone... anyone... and most of the time, that someone was my partner.

But here’s the truth: It was too much. It wasn’t fair.

I hadn’t asked for his consent. I hadn’t checked if he had emotional capacity. I simply brought the storm mid-process mid-rawness without giving him a chance to brace himself or opt in. Unspoken boundaries were crossed, over and over.

And slowly, naturally, he pulled away. He put up walls. Because it’s overwhelming to be someone's sole emotional container without permission or choice.

Looking back now, I understand: It wasn’t that he didn’t love me. It wasn’t that he didn’t care. It was that I was demanding emotional labour without invitation, assuming availability without checking in, expecting him to catch every falling part of me without realising he was struggling to hold his own.

I now know:

🌱 I needed to learn to self-regulate and process with myself first, sitting with the heat, journaling, moving it through my body, dancing, screaming into pillows if I had to.

🌱 I needed create self trust and safety by reparenting those raw, hurting parts of me (the inner child parts that were angry, afraid, anxious and confused), offering them tenderness and steadiness.

🌱 I needed to seek support from a range of people. From trusted friends who had consented, professional therapists, and somatic practices rather than leaning entirely on one person.

🌱 I needed to ask: "Do you have the space for me to share something heavy right now?"

Because true support is consensual. It’s an offering, not a demand.

If he said no, that would have been a gift... a boundary that protected both of us. If he said yes, it would have meant I was being held with his full-hearted, willing presence rather than obligation or resentment.

I'm not surprised he needed distance when I came charging in like a bull at a gate. That’s a natural, human response to emotional overwhelm. I wish I had known better then. But I’m deeply grateful I know now.

We honour each other’s boundaries by asking. We honour ourselves by learning how to hold our own emotions first, and create self trust, before handing these emotions tenderly to someone else. We create deeper connection when we pause, breathe, and choose presence over pressure.

✨ What tools do you have in your emotional tool belt that help you sit with your own storm first?

Belonging Without Masks

Do you have people in your life who truly see you?

As someone who spent much of my life feeling like an outsider... like I didn’t quite belong, it feels pretty special to be seen by my beautiful friends and community.

I wanted to share what it feels like to be truly seen and understood: It feels like a bursting in your chest, where love overflows and spills out into the world. Like a sparkling light pouring out of you. Like your whole body expanding tenfold. Your mind becoming clearer than it’s ever been. Feeling so present and alive in the moment. The warmth inside you glowing like a campfire. A tingle spreading across your skin. A giant, releasing sigh. It feels like peace and safety.

For so long, I wore masks. I shaped myself into who I thought others wanted me to be. People-pleasing, hiding the parts of me that felt too messy, too much, too tender.

Being seen, truly seen, without needing to shrink, edit, or perform... is one of the greatest gifts I have ever experienced. It feels so freeing.

I feel so lucky to have people in my life who I can reveal everything to. People I can be raw with. Silly with. Messy with. People who welcome the parts of me I once tried to hide, and love me even more for it. It’s freedom. Pleasure. And I wouldn't have these relationships if I had stayed in the safety of patterns and behaviours of trying to fit in and people-pleasing. It's scary to let the masks fall away, revealing parts you have shamed and you are scared others will not accept but it is worth it to have real relationships where you can be the fully unfiltered version of yourself.

✨ What does it feel like in your body when you feel seen?

✨ Is there a moment you remember when someone really, truly saw you?

The Healing Power of Role Play, Ritual, and Archetypes

Earlier this year I went on an extraordinary journey with Eclectica.... a deep dive into the Passage of Self, a ritual theatre process that culminated in a live stage performance across three days.

Every Tuesday evening, I stepped into ceremony, into ritual, into unraveling. Layer by layer, I peeled back the versions of myself I thought I had to be... the ones polished for acceptance, compressed for comfort, hidden to stay "safe."

One of the most powerful discoveries has been consciously connecting with different arechetypes. Archetypes that have helped unlock powerful aspects of myself that have been waiting to be seen.

Through role play, through movement, through embodying these energies, I’ve met parts of myself I had long suppressed. The Creative Rainbow Mother has risen... ready to hold and nurture the Giddy Garden community with colour, vibrancy, and fierce love. (Though my inner Maiden, who is playful and rebellious, has whispered doubts, afraid that stepping into the Mother might mean losing my wildness.... but it doesn't. It combines all of these.)

Other archetypes have come roaring forward too:

🌿 The Wild One — untamed, ferocious, unapologetically alive.

🌿 The Witch — powerful, intuitive, instinctual, the wise medicine woman, living an unapologetic existence outside the constraints of rigid social roles.

🌿 The Warrior — protector of boundaries, keeper of fierce self-respect, wielding healthy anger for action towards change.

🌿 The Whore — the embodied eros, the sacred sensuality, the one who claims pleasure without shame.

These are the parts of me (and maybe of you, too) that society taught us to suppress. Too wild. Too much. Not "lady-like." Not "polite."

But in denying them, I have realised, I was denying my own power. I became the people-pleaser. The one who silenced her intuition. The one who tiptoed around her desires, her no’s, her deep knowing. The one who let life happen to her, instead of moving in deliberate, soulful steps.

Costumes, archetypes, and role play aren’t just for performance. They are portals. They are permission slips. They let us remember ourselves... not who we were told to be, but who we have always been underneath.

Through embodying these archetypes, I am learning to stand taller, speak clearer, move wilder, and live more truthfully. Not shrinking. Not apologising. Not fragmenting myself to fit into a world too small for the fullness of who I am.

Photo credit: @ports_by_me

Models: Left to Right (@estherogilvie, @patty_smack, @thevelvetlilith, @giddygarden, @the.kinky.chef)

Speaking From the Heart: Scripts for Tough Talks

Here's a simple script that can turn difficult conversations into moments of honesty, kindness, and deeper connection.

As someone who can get fiery when I'm emotionally charged, someone who has had a tendency toward criticism and blame when I feel hurt or triggered, I've learned (the hard way) that the way we start a difficult conversation can completely change how it unfolds.

Using gentle, honest scripts like this has helped me have more productive, kind, and loving conversations, where care stays at the center, even when it's hard. It’s also made a huge difference in how people respond: when you speak with openness instead of blame, others are much more likely to stay receptive and connected, rather than shutting down or getting defensive.

Here is one of my favourite conversation starters that can help (inspired by John Gottman):

"When [this specific thing] happens, I feel [this specific emotion]. What I need is [this specific need]."

Example:

"When you cancel our plans last minute, I feel hurt and unimportant. What I need is to feel considered and respected when we make time for each other."

If you’re in relationship with someone who tends to be avoidant, defensive, or shut down when difficult conversations arise, even when you’re speaking with kindness and clarity, you’re not alone. Some people have deep conditioning that makes them hear “you’ve done something wrong” or “you’re not enough” no matter how gently the message is offered.

In those moments, it can help to precede your need or feeling with a sentence that softens their nervous system, reassures them of your care, and signals safety. Here are a few scripts that can help you set the stage before stepping into the deeper stuff:

1. "I want to share something with you, and I want you to know that I am bringing it up with compassion and love. My aim in sharing this is to feel closer and more connected to you."

2. "Can I share something that’s on my heart? I don’t need fixing or solutions, just your presence, curiosity and connection. Do you have capacity for that right now?"

3. "Before I say this, I want you to know that I love you and I’m bringing this up to try to create more closeness."

4. "I’ve got something I want to share with you and I've noticed in the past that when we talk about this stuff, it’s hard on both of us. I want to do it differently this time, can we try to stay connected while I share something vulnerable?"

5. "Can I check in, is now a good time for an honest heart chat? I’d love for us to be grounded and open before we dive in."

Becoming Your Own Lover

What if pleasure wasn’t something you had to wait for from someone else but something you could gift yourself, every single day?

For so long, I thought self-pleasure was just... masturbat!on. Genital touch. A quick release. Nothing more.

But the deeper I’ve gone into cultivating a self-pleasure practice, bringing in sensuality, slowness, and deep listening to my own desires, the more it’s opened up a whole new world. A deeper, richer understanding of pleasure. Of what I love. Of what lights me up.

Some of the most beautiful, sensual experiences I’ve ever had have been with myself, because who knows better where I want to be touched, how slow or soft I want to go, than me?

And it’s not just about sexual touch. Pleasure lives in the smallest, sweetest places:

🌿 The feeling of a breeze brushing against my skin when I walk in nature.

🌿 Running my fingertips over the rough bark of a tree, or the velvety softness of a leaf.

🌿 Inhaling the scent of crushed eucalyptus in my hands.

Most of the things we long for from lovers... the tenderness, the attention, the attunement, we can offer to ourselves, more intuitively than anyone else could.

We know the exact spot. The perfect pressure. The kind of touch that feels like being worshipped. The song we want to dance to. The kind of words our heart aches to hear.

And sometimes, it’s nice not to have to ask. Just to receive, without needing permission.

Some of my favorite acts of self-pleasure and self-love:

🎶 Singing love songs to myself.

💃 Dancing slowly, sensually, wildly... just for me.

💌 Writing myself love letters.

🍽️ Cooking meals that feel like a love offering.

🌿 Taking myself on adventures... big or small.

👗 Stripping slowly for myself in the mirror, savoring the art of being seen... by me.

All of these are acts of devotion. All of these are ways of remembering: I am already worthy of the love, the pleasure, the tenderness I seek.

✨ How do you honor yourself through self-pleasure or self-dating?

Photo credit: Vas Chakra Photography at Velvet Temple Eros' Church of Sluts

Learning to Feel Safe in Love

For anyone still learning how to feel safe in love... you are not alone. Here’s what secure attachment and feeling secure in yourself can feel like, from someone still finding their way.

For most of my life, I haven't known what secure love feels like. I lived in anxious attachment (and sometimes avoidance to protect myself)... people-pleasing, shrinking, bending myself into shapes that I thought would be chosen. I forgot about my own needs, or believed they didn’t matter. Boundaries...what were they? Somewhere deep down, I thought love was something I had to earn by giving others what they wanted, by abandoning parts of myself first, before they could. That if I wasn’t easy enough, selfless enough, accommodating enough… I would be abandoned.

I am still learning. Still re-mapping the old, tangled pathways inside me. But in the moments when I land in the safety of feeling secure in myself and relationships, when I feel it, it’s like stepping into a safe new world.

It’s the knowing that I can listen to my wants, desires, and needs. That I have autonomy, and still, I am loved. That love isn’t conditional on silencing myself.

Feeling secure and safe in love feels like safety to be soft and to be empowered. Safe to be seen. Safe to be me.

It’s knowing I don’t have to be suspicious about kindness, or brace for love to be taken away. It’s allowing my heart to stay open without fear. It feels like permission to need, to ask, to receive. It feels like tears being welcome, allowing myself to have boundaries and these being met.

In my mind, it’s the absence of that spinning, scrambling, desperate searching: "Did I say too much?" "Are they pulling away?" "Is it safe to rest here?"

Secure attachment doesn’t mean no misunderstandings in your relationships, no fears, no hard days. But it’s more resilient. It bends without breaking. It calls you closer, even when you feel messy or afraid. It says: "You don’t have to go through this alone."

Every time you choose openness and curiosity in your relationships over the armour of defensiveness or dismissal, you're weaving a new kind of belonging and deeper connection.

I’m not saying feeling secure is easy! We carry stories, wounds, and habits that can keep us looping. But it’s a goal worth working toward in our relationships, and something we all deserve to experience.

Photo credit: Vas Chakra Photography

Dancing Out Your Emotions

When the weight of the world settles into my bones, sometimes the only thing that supports me is movement, music, and the wild permission to feel it all.

Sometimes, the journey of self-discovery feels heavy, 
like wading through shadowlands, thick with sorrow and old stories. 
I can lose myself there, crouched inward, head bowed, body folded forward in defense, clinging to sadness like a moth-eaten security blanket. But then… I remember:
 Healing doesn’t have to be solemn. 
It can be wild. 
It can be playful.
 It can be creative. When I open my chest,
 when I cry with my shoulders back and my head held high,
 something shifts.
 The grief is still there, but it flows differently. It transforms.
 It doesn’t close me; it moves through me. Emotions are rivers that move and change. Not prisons, keeping you stuck.
 They’re meant to be felt, honoured, and released Not held onto like a relic of who we once were. Sometimes I scream into a pillow, punch and kick until the storm inside softens into tears…
 and then, almost unbelievably, into laughter.
 Into power.
 Into gentleness. Into joy. Dance is my medicine. Music is my alchemy.
 A sad song lets the grief pour out. 
A joyful beat lifts me up.
 When the rage needs to leave my body, nothing works better than drum and bass Loud, chaotic, freeing Shaking every stuck piece of me loose.

🎶 What songs are your medicine when emotions swell?
 What music helps you remember to move it all through?

Play: The Secret Ingredient for Real Growth

"Play is not a break from learning. Play is the way we learn." — Fred Rogers

Play isn’t something separate from growth, it’s how real growth happens.

When we play, we open up new pathways in our brains, in our bodies, and in our hearts.

We become more curious, more creative, more willing to take risks and step into the unknown because it feels joyful, not pressured. That's why we weave play into everything we do at Giddy Garden. Workshops, performances, connection games are all designed through a playful lens, where learning happens naturally, through laughter, exploration, and shared experience. When we are having fun and are fully engaged in the moment, learning doesn't feel heavy or forced... it feels alive.

In her book Beyond Anxiety: Curiosity, Creativity and Finding Your Life's Purpose, Martha Beck explains that engaging with play, spontaneity, creative expression, and curiosity, (rather than logic, which can keep us stuck) invites new neural pathways, cultivates innovative problem-solving, and opens us to meaning, joy, and deeper connection with ourselves and others.

So let's play more! 🌱✨

Re-Parenting Yourself: Nurturing the Parts That Once Felt Unseen

Inside each of us lives a constellation of parts... tender, messy, protective, expressive, frightened, cautious. Some are childlike and curious, some are loud with perfectionism or fear, some are full of rage or shame and some have long been pushed into the shadows. Re-parenting is the process of turning toward these parts with care. Not to silence or fix them, but to understand, tend, and gently update them.

Adapted from the beautiful work of Jessica Fern in her book Polywise, the LOVE U process invites us into this inner care:

✨ L - Locate the part — where do you feel it in your body or awareness?

✨ O - Discover its Origin — how and when did it come into being? How old were you?

✨ V - Validate its pain and purpose — Is it there to protect you (from shame, from fear, from getting hurt)?

✨ E - Embrace it with love, presence, and compassion - ask it what it needs (maybe thats a hug from you, a hand on your heart or the part that feels the sensation, or to hold your hand)

✨ U - And finally, Update the part — bringing it into the present, offering it a role that fits your life now. I like to do this by showing the part snippets of my life and fastforwarding my life like a movie and showing it how far I've come and that it no longer needs to protect me. Ask it what role it wants now? Maybe this part wants to stop fighting/protecting and just play.

You can even try this in a physical, embodied way: place two cushions on the ground (often called Aspecting). Let one represent the part of you that needs re-parenting (the inner child, the voice of fear). And let the other be the version of you today, your wise, grounded, compassionate adult self. Sit on one cushion and speak honestly from the part that’s been holding pain or confusion. Then switch seats, soften, and respond as the caring parent you wish you’d had, loving, listening, offering warmth, acceptance, reassurance and the words that this part needs to hear to feel safe. This simple act can bring profound shifts in how seen and soothed those inner parts feel.

Re-parenting is not about erasing the past, it’s about showing up now with presence. It’s about becoming the adult you once needed, and offering yourself the softness, strength, and steady love that lets your whole self be integrated. You can also do this through journalling if that works better for you. 🌱