You have the lens of {result rank #1 percent} {result rank #1 title}
{result rank #2 percent} {result rank #2 title}
{result rank #3 percent} {result rank #3 title}

As a woman who sees reality through the lens of a striver, the world may be seen as fundamentally unsafe—an unpredictable, unstable place where survival must be earned. Through this lens, safety is not a birthright, but a reward for effort. “No one’s coming to save me” becomes an unspoken mantra.

This lens developed not merely out of chance but because of a deeper reason. Most likely, a woman with a striver lens may have grown up in a home where a parent was absent, neglectful, or emotionally unavailable. Perhaps her basic needs—whether physical, emotional, or energetic—were unmet. Or maybe she was simply handed the generational belief that if you want to make it in life, you have to work hard. Harder than others. Hard enough to outrun instability.

And so the Striver was born: the part of you who got up early, stayed late, tried harder, and carried it all—because she had to.

While this lens may have made you highly capable, independent, and resilient, it often comes at a cost. The Striver is tired. She’s run on adrenaline, self-reliance, and sheer willpower for too long. Beneath her competence lives a deep longing: to soften, to be supported, to finally rest.

To realize this inner longingg, life may also present her with situations that force her to confront this exhaustion—such as through job rejections, endless hustling that leads nowhere, or burnout cycles that no amount of effort can fix. In relationships, the Striver often attracts the chill archetype—partners who seem relaxed, passive, even avoidant. Unconsciously, you may feel drawn to them because they mirror your repressed desire to let go. But instead of relaxing into their presence, you may find yourself “managing” the relationship, fixing problems, or being the one who holds it all together. The Striver doesn’t know how to receive, because receiving feels unsafe.

But if you experience these, no that these are not failures, my love. Instead, they are simply invitations to lay the heavy burden down.

To heal the Striver lens is to come home to the spirit of earth within you. It is to feel how life already supports you, such as the ground beneath your feet that does it without asking anything from you in return. It is to become one with the trees don’t hustle to grow, and the rivers that do not effort to flow. It is to embody the safety that is not built by how much you have in your bank account, or how well your partner behaves. Rather, it is a presence you cultivate inside, again and again, until your nervous system believes it.

When you begin to feel safe in your own being—safe to slow down, to receive, to trust—you begin to dismantle the old story that you must “earn your right to exist.” And this is when life beautifully begins to open in new ways. In business or career, this might look like asking for more and receiving it without guilt. In love, it may look like releasing control and allowing yourself to be held. And within your own mind, you experience deep stillness, peace, and rest-- something you have always wanted your whole life but never thought you had earned enough for it yet.

Letting go of the Striver is like taking off a heavy backpack you didn’t know you were carrying your whole life. In its place rises a sense of calm, serenity, and grounded flow. A rhythm aligned not with survival and effort, but instead ease in everything you do. And from this rooted place, everything from relationships to career begin to grow—naturally, effortlessly, abundantly, as unconditional receiving becomes your permanent state of being.

A memory your soul is longing to return to:

Waking up on a slow morning, sunlight gently spilling across the bed, and for once… there's nowhere to rush to. No pressure to prove, no checklist to chase. Just you, warm under the blankets, feeling her breath rise and fall. And in that stillness, a quiet revelation: I’m safe here. I don’t need to earn my place on this Earth.

~

My love, this lens resonates with you, and you want to explore more of how you can experience lasting peace and fulfillment, you're warmly invited to book a free no-pressure introductory session here. That way, you experience the shift not just as a brief mental knowing but as an embodied experience that brings relief to every part of who you are.

You have the lens of {result rank #1 percent} {result rank #1 title}
{result rank #2 percent} {result rank #2 title}
{result rank #3 percent} {result rank #3 title}

As a woman who sees reality through the lens of the Good Girl, the world is seen as a rigid structure where you need to be push yourself to be someone else. Whether that is, to please others—be liked, wanted, accepted, or approved of—in order to belong. "What should I do?" is a common unspoken mantra.

To dissolve this lens (and to find lasting peace) is to first understand that these lens didn't come out of pure chance but from the the emotional undercurrents of your early environment. Most likely, your parents/caretakers may have given you love only when you were agreeable, quiet, nice, and/or are a "good girl". Perhaps emotions like anger, sadness, or desire were met with disapproval, punishment, or withdrawal. So you likely learned that in order to be loved, you have to perform to be the "good girl."

And so, as you grow up, the Good Girl likely becomes fluent in reading the room, adjusting her tone, suppressing her needs, and being exactly who others need her to be. She’s usually the caretaker, the peacekeeper, the one who anticipates everyone’s needs—but quietly forgets her own. As a good god girl you may feel like you are only valuable when you are wanted. And that your sense of safety is dependent on other people-- more specifically, that you are safe only when you are chosen.

But underneath the sweet smile and practiced poise, the Good girl feels a deeper grief-- i.e. the pain of self-abandonment. Over time, the Good Girl loses access to her own desires, her own no’s, her wildness, her sensuality, her life force. She may feel emotionally numb or be easily overwhelmed. She may struggle to make decisions for herself. She may give herself away—sexually, energetically, or emotionally—just to feel connected.

In relationships, the Good girl lens show up as the kind where love feels surface level and/or transactional. Relationships may feel shallow since you couldn't fully express yourself and so can't be seen nor heard. You may also find yourself being drawn to judgemental people—trying to earn their affection through trying to "work on" yourself. But either way, connection becomes conditional and never fully nourishing.

To heal this lens is to come back to yourself-- not just for what you "should" do but how you actually feel inside. It is to feel your feelings all the way through without shame nor judgement. It is to realize how your no is as holy as your yes. And that your emotions aren’t “too much”—they are the tides of your soul, leading you to a life that feels more true to you.

Healing the Good Girl lens is a return to authenticity—to becoming whole again after years of being half of yourself for the sake of love. It’s a journey of rewilding: letting your true desires surface like spring water from beneath an icy ground that has been frozen after all the years of shame, judgement, and pressure. It's a journey of reconnecting-- with your sensuality, your creativity, your joy. And with the you who is free from other people's approval.

And from this sacred reclamation, life begins to blossom differently, my dear. Your career becomes a natural expression of Self rather than rules and demanding structure. Your relationships also become more deep where you feel emotionally and spiritually felt. Your creativity also begins to flow more freely as your body becomes accepted.

Here, you realize that the real you is not only worthy of love—but is love itself. And from this liberated place, your relationships to career reflect back the peace of your being as you now realize that you are already whole and perfect, in all of who you are.

A memory your soul is longing to return to:

Walking into a room and not needing to impress anyone. You no longer need to scan for how you're being perceived. You're just… present. Laughing, speaking, resting in your body—and it feels natural, not forced. Deep down, you realize "I don’t have to try so hard. And I am still loved."

~
P.S.

My love, this lens resonates with you, and you want to explore more of how you can experience lasting peace and fulfillment, you're warmly invited to book a free no-pressure introductory session here. That way, you experience the shift not just as a brief mental knowing but as an embodied experience that brings freedom to every part of who you are.

You have the lens of {result rank #1 percent} {result rank #1 title}
{result rank #2 percent} {result rank #2 title}
{result rank #3 percent} {result rank #3 title}

The Achiever sees the world as a place to be shaped, conquered, mastered. At the center of this lens is a woman who knows she was born for more—who feels the fire of her soul whispering, “You’re meant to do something big.” And so she dreams, plans, builds. She sets visions into motion with an almost magical willpower, determined to make her mark.

While this lens may feel empowering at first glance, this pattern usually emerges from a childhood where achievement was praised more than presence. Maybe your brilliance was noticed only when it shone. Maybe you felt responsible for holding the family together, or had to grow up too fast where you are the "responsible"/"successful" one. And somewhere along those lines, you may learned that your worth is measured by what you achieve, not who you are.

And so the achiever becomes the woman who’s always on: striving, producing, optimizing her life. She tracks goals and monitors outcomes. She's empowered, magnetic, often deeply admired. And yet, beneath her success, she may feel a fear, that usually looks like "What happens if I stop?" or "Who am I without the wins?"

When the Achiever lens is overactive, it can distort your relationship to power. You may feel like your self-worth rises and falls with your results. And if a project doesn’t land, a launch flops, or a plan fails it may lead to spirals of self-blame. You may begin to feel behind compared to others, or worse, that there must be something "wrong" with you.

And the reason why it's hard to find peace beyond these lens is because when things do go well, there’s often a temporary high—usually followed by the next mountain to climb. The Manifestor may find herself addicted to potential, chasing the horizon, feeling restless even in moments of success. Desire is constant and pride keeps may keep you going. But underneath, you may feel exhausted, worried, or frustrated that nothing ever feels done.

Not only that these lens can impact your relationships where you may feel like you always need to "have it all together,” or fear being seen as weak. OR when you do open up emotionally, it may feel unsafe if the other person doesn't immediately return your openness. As an achiever, you may unconsciously attract people who drain your power or resist your leadership—mirroring your own inner conflict between control and surrender.

To heal the Achiever lens is to remember that your power doesn’t come from what you achieve—it comes from what you are. It’s a return to inner authority, not as control, but as presence. The Solar Plexus (the chakra associated with the Achievers), if in balance, doesn’t grasp or chase. It radiates. It knows that true power doesn’t need to push—it just is.

This healing then continues to deepen when you let yourself be enough now—not when the business hits six figure months, not when the dream relationship arrives, not when the vision board is complete. But instead in the radical Now moment. It deepens when you release the need to force outcomes, and instead, align with the rhythm of life—trusting that divine timing is never late, and your worth does not have to be proven.

As when this shift takes root in your body, your nervous system begins to relax. Your actions become fueled by joy, not pressure. Your confidence no longer hinges on pressure or performance. Instead, your creativity flows without rushing, nor paralyzing. You begin to lead, not from force, but from clarity and grounded sovereignty.

And from this place, my love, everything– from career to relationships will begin to align—naturally, confidently, soulfully, as you experience peace not only in the outcomes but also in unfolding of life itself.

A memory your soul is longing to return to

You close your laptop after hours of scripting, visualizing, aligning, trying. The house is quiet. The sun is setting, brushing golden light across the walls. And in a rare moment of surrender, you let it all go—the goals, the timelines, the vision boards. You walk outside barefoot, feeling the earth beneath you. The air kisses your skin. For once, you're not focused on what’s coming. You're just here. And it dawns on you: peace isn’t something I have to create—it’s something I can let in.

~

P.S.

My love, this lens resonates with you, and you want to explore more of how you can experience lasting peace and fulfillment, you're warmly invited to book a free no-pressure introductory session here. That way, you experience the shift not just as a brief mental knowing but as an embodied experience that brings fulfillment in every part of who you are.

You have the lens of {result rank #1 percent} {result rank #1 title}
{result rank #2 percent} {result rank #2 title}
{result rank #3 percent} {result rank #3 title}

The Martyr forms in hearts that learned love through self-sacrifice. At the center of this lens is a woman who feels everything—who senses the unspoken grief in a room, who carries the ache of others in her chest as if it were her own. Love, to her, has always meant giving. And so she gives—her time, her energy, her heart—without hesitation, even when it empties her.

This lens often develops in childhood, when love came with conditions. Perhaps your presence soothed a struggling parent or you became the emotional caregiver for a sibling. Perhaps you learned to dim your needs, to manage everyone else’s moods, to equate your value with how much hardship you could carry. In exchange, you may have received a sense of importance—but at the cost of your own wellbeing.

The Martyr becomes the woman who always shows up. She holds the space. She remembers the little things. She overextends herself even when she isn't asked. She listens deeply and gives herself freely—and yet quietly wonders why no one ever seems to return the love to her quite the same way. She longs to be met as deeply as she loves. But more often than not, she feels invisible, taken for granted, or misunderstood.

When the Martyr lens is active, love becomes entangled with guilt. Rest feels selfish like you don't deserve it. Joy feels inconsiderate because it feels like when others are suffering you "should" too. And so, a woman with the martyr lens may sabotage her own ease or success, believing that she must suffer too—lest life be unfair to others. In moments of beauty, a subtle grief may creeps in, with thoughts that wonder like "Do I even deserve this?" And when she finally collapses under the weight of holding everyone else, she may feel ashamed for needing help at all.

In career, the Martyr may pour herself into missions that matter—into healing, advocacy, service—but feel crushed when others don’t share her devotion. She may find herself doing the emotional labor for teams, clients, or causes, often burning out because she believes that if she doesn't carry this, who will?

Similarly, in love, she may often yearn for a soulmate who will finally see her. She may fantasize about being rescued or chosen fully—but struggles with intimacy because part of her still believes she must earn that love through sacrificing herself for the other. Her heart aches not because she is weak—but because it’s been made the container for everyone else's sorrow.

To heal the Martyr lens is to return to the truth that love was never meant to be transactional. It is not something to earn or barter with. It is the very essence of who you are.

The heart chakra (associated with the Martyr lens), when balanced, does not need to carry the pain of others in order to love them. Nor it has to collapase itself in order to meet others—rather it invites them higher. Nor it gives out of lack or "need"—rather it gives because it is overflowing.

Dissolving the martyr lens (and so finding peace) begins when you allow yourself to be held. When you realize that YOUR happiness is what leads to the happiness of others. And that your wellbeing is the same as the well-being of others too, for we all are one and the same, interconnected.

As this truth lands into your body, you will begin to feel safe being supported. You begin to receive from others/ from life without judging yourself. You allow yourself to rest, to feel good, to feel loved, without needing to feel guilty about it. Here, you no longer try to rescue others, nor do you hand over your soul waiting to be saved.

Instead, as you rest in the love that you are (without needing to prove that you are IT), you begin to pour back the life force into yourself instead of depleting it by trying to "give" to others. From here, you receive love and support easily as a natural way of life, whether that'd be through expressing your needs freely or you not being wavered when people don't reciprocate love the same way. It also means that you move fromm a place of deeper trust and confidence, which invites the other to mirror the love you already are.

A memory your soul is longing to return to

Sitting across from someone you loves and sharing a boundary—not as an act of defense, but as a soft truth. And then… you're met with warmth, not rejection. Your whole body relaxes. And you realize: I can be loved without sacrificing what I feel.

~
P.S.

My love, this lens resonates with you, and you want to explore more of how you can experience lasting peace and fulfillment, you're warmly invited to book a free no-pressure introductory session here. That way, you experience the shift not just as a brief mental knowing but as an embodied experience that brings deep love in every part of who you are.

You have the lens of {result rank #1 percent} {result rank #1 title}
{result rank #2 percent} {result rank #2 title}
{result rank #3 percent} {result rank #3 title}

The Seeker sees life as a mystery to be solved, a truth to be unlocked. At the center of this lens is a woman who has always been searching—for the right path, the right words, the right answers to finally make it all make sense. Her inner world is vast and full of questions. She has read the books, followed the mentors, understood all the healing concepts—but peace still feels like something just out of reach.

Oftentimes, this lens is formed in early environments where her voice felt too much, or not enough. Perhaps she was labeled as the sensitive one, the odd one out, the one who asked “why?” too many times. Perhaps she was praised for being wise, but not held when she was vulnerable. Or maybe her truth was ignored entirely—leaving her to wonder if she even had the right to speak it.

And so, the Seeker becomes the woman who is always evolving, always processing, always yearning for clarity. She’s articulate, self-aware, often seen as insightful and spiritually “on the path.” She may express herself beautifully in writing, or pour herself into therapy, healing work, or personal development. But underneath all the exploration, there is often a quiet ache that asks... When will I finally arrive?

When the Seeker lens is overactive, it distorts your relationship to truth and expression. You may feel like your voice must be perfectly clear before it’s worthy of being heard. OR may feel like you would speak your truth but others don't really hear or understand you. Not only that, the seeker lens can lead to doubting yourself, second-guessing your intuition, or revising what you say in your head long after the conversation has ended.

This lens can also create a restless spirituality—constantly reaching for the next breakthrough, book, or modality in hopes that this will be the one. And when it doesn’t bring the peace you hoped for, you may blame yourself, thinking that something must be unaligned or "off" with you.

In relationships, the Seeker often yearns for someone who “gets” them—who can meet them in their depth and resonance. But their own guarded throat may keep them from truly being known. They may struggle to express their needs, or shapeshift their tone to keep the peace, sacrificing authenticity in favor of connection. They may also feel like no one really hears them—and secretly wonder if their truth is too much, too demanding, or too tender for this world.

To heal the Seeker lens is to realize that peace does not come from finding the truth—it comes from being it.

The throat chakra (associated with the seeker lens), when balanced, doesn’t have to seek clarity—it allows it to move through like the wind moving through trees. It doesn’t strive to say the right thing—it speaks from the rootedness of your own inner being. Nor it looks outside for permission—it knows that expression is sacred simply because it is alive.

Healing the seeker begins when you let your voice come through in its raw, messy beauty—not to be validated, but to be honored. When you stop trying to say things perfectly and instead speak what’s real. When you realize your truth doesn’t need to be grand or certain or universally resonant to matter. It matters because it’s yours.

As this shift integrates, your seeking begins to soften. You no longer chase truth like it’s somewhere outside of you. You realize that your presence—your being—is already the answer. You no longer dilute your voice to be understood, but trust that the right people will hear you as you are.

And from this place, you no longer seek peace like it’s somewhere outside of you—you remember it was always in your breath, your stillness, your being. Your voice, once tangled in doubt, becomes a gentle stream, offering what’s true in the moment without needing to prove. And even in your silence, even when you do nothing at all, you feel the quiet contentment of enoughness—a deep exhale, soft and steady, blooming delicately like the wildflowers in spring.

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A moment your soul is longing to return to

You're halfway through journaling—but now you set the pen down and let the silence linger. Outside, the wind moves through the trees without needing to be understood, the sun spills itself across the floor without asking to be seen. You breathe. And without planning to, you whisper a truth—not polished or profound, but honest and present: “This is where I am.” And in that quiet, you realize.... you’re not reaching forward or looking back, for the first time in your life. You’re simply here. And you realize, with a calm that surprises you: you’ve arrived.

~
P.S.

If this lens resonates with you, and you want to explore more of how you can step into the transformation for lasting peace and fulfillment, you're warmly invited to book a free introductory session here. On the session, you will receive even deeper insights of what your soul wants for you and see if you'd be a fit for deeper guidance and support too.