January 9th 3:34 PM

I Did the Work: An Alchemical Journey of Healing, Alignment, and Sovereignty

On my birthday, January 9th, at exactly 3:34 PM, the precise moment I was born, I paused.

Not to look outward.

Not to count years.

But to look within.

And what I saw moved me deeply.

I saw how far I have come in my healing. I saw how many versions of myself I had to shed, how many illusions I had to release, how many wounds I had to tend to in silence. I felt gratitude—not the surface kind, but the deep, embodied gratitude that comes from survival, growth, and spiritual maturity.

I realized how blessed I am.

How aligned I am becoming.

How proud I am of myself.

That realization alone was the greatest birthday gift I could ever receive.

No material thing could compare to the peace I now carry, the clarity I now walk with, and the self-trust I have cultivated through years of inner work. And in that moment, I felt something shift. I began to think: this is something I want to honor every year.

Fasting. Reflection. Stillness. Communion with my higher self.

Because birthdays are not just markers of age—they are portals. Thresholds. Moments where the soul reviews its journey and recalibrates its direction. And for me, fasting on my birthday feels like a sacred offering. A return to center. A way of honoring how far I’ve come and where I am going.

I did the work.

I did the work on myself.

I went within, and I healed.

Not for validation.

Not for acceptance.

Not to be seen, praised, or understood by others.

I healed to come into alignment with my higher self.

The road to that alignment was not gentle. It was not linear. It was not easy. It was rough, steep, and often lonely. There was betrayal—sometimes subtle, sometimes blatant. There were spiritual attacks, manipulation, envy, jealousy, and forces that sought to drain, confuse, or destabilize me.

There were Jezebel spirits—operating through control, deception, and false narratives.

There were Python spirits—attempting to constrict, suffocate, and slowly wear me down.

There were patterns passed down through bloodlines—generational curses rooted in envy, comparison, resentment, and scarcity.

And one day, I recognized it clearly: this stops with me.

I was the one meant to see it.

I was the one meant to heal it.

I was the curse breaker.

That realization alone carries weight. Being the curse breaker means you are often misunderstood. It means you disrupt systems that benefited from silence. It means you are tested, isolated, and challenged—not because you are weak, but because you are powerful.

Healing was not glamorous. It was raw. It was confronting. It required me to sit with discomfort, grief, and truth. I had to heal when I was weak. I had to heal when I was broken. I had to heal when I didn’t yet feel strong—because healing is what creates strength.

The inner peace I stand in today did not take months. It took years upon years upon years. Years of choosing growth over comfort. Years of choosing awareness over denial. Years of choosing myself when it would have been easier to abandon myself.

While others were acquiring material things, I was acquiring internal wealth.

Discernment.

Wisdom.

Spiritual maturity.

Emotional intelligence.

Self-mastery.

And along this journey, I learned something essential—something every healer, every empath, every alchemist must learn:

When someone attacks you—spiritually, verbally, emotionally, or physically—you do not stay silent.

Silence is not always strength.

Silence can be permission.

You open your mouth.

You speak up.

You stand tall.

You become the David to that Goliath.

Even if you stand alone. Even if there is a group coming against you. Even if your voice shakes—you speak. Because when you claim your truth and take action, you reclaim your power.

And here is where the alchemist comes in.

As an alchemist, I understand energy. I understand intention. I understand transmutation. I understand that not all battles are meant to be fought, but not all energy is meant to be absorbed either.

There comes a point—guided by intuition, wisdom, and self-respect—where enough is enough.

At that point, you do not retaliate.

You do not seek revenge.

You do not punish.

You return the energy to its sender.

Not as harm.

But as truth.

As reflection.

As a gift.

Because when people feel what they are sending out, they are given an opportunity to heal what they refuse to face. Returning energy to sender is not cruelty—it is clarity. It is sovereignty. It is the refusal to carry what was never yours to hold.

Bullies do not survive boundaries.

Manipulative spirits do not survive exposure.

Jezebel and Python spirits do not survive light.

They must go.

I watched as some who once gossiped, slandered, or worked against me became silent witnesses to my growth. Some became proud. Some became uncomfortable. Some remained unchanged. But none of that mattered. My healing was never about proving anything to them.

It was about becoming whole.

Adversity was never meant to break me. It was meant to refine me. To sharpen my perception. To deepen my intuition. To strengthen my vigilance. I rise through adversity, not despite it.

I am not like everyone else.

I am unique.

I am discerning.

I am vigilant.

I grow from everything.

Healing is not a destination—it is a lifelong devotion. A practice of alignment. A commitment to truth. A willingness to speak when silence would betray the soul.

So here I stand today—on the other side of so much work—with peace that cannot be stolen, clarity that cannot be shaken, and a deep reverence for the journey that brought me here.

Unbroken.

Unshaken.

Aligned.

Rising.

Because I did the work.

Because I went within.

Because I honored my soul.

And every January 9th, at 3:34 PM, I will remember this:

The greatest gift I can give myself is continued alignment.

Continued healing.

Continued truth.