Almost everyone who knew me as a child has passed to the other side and since I experienced caregiver abuse it does make sense that I would potentially hear from abusers.
My scarcity mindset tries to kick up in times like this when I'm torn between Going and Doing vs Sitting and Being. The FOMO (Fear of Missing Out) monster thinks there's some magic happening I can't be part of. Instead of focusing on where I'm at and creating JOWID (Joy Of Whatever I'm Doing). The magic was right where I was at! My basic pep talk for when my brain wants to do what my body is not available for is "What is for me will not pass me by."
I have been to Atlanta Pride at least three times. The first one I remember mostly a Femme Mafia party in Rachael’s …
Owned by Canadian Queer Women and ethically made with incredible artwork and quality--I’m all in. Size inclusive from 2XS to 6X!!
I’m fond of saying that my spiritual practice is “free game from the universe.”
We are in a continually unprecedented time and facing uncertainty and instability. We have ancestors who have incarnated during other times in herstory that were unstable and difficult who have wisdom to share with us.
Since we have free will choice, we have to ask to be guided.
Five and a half years is a lifetime
I've noticed Candy apologizing for not having more to offer to our group and I always think to myself how much her presence simply is a gift. Even if she didn't have her various backgrounds she's just a kind, thoughtful, present, fun human to share space with.
Surrendering to the Divine mystery and opening myself up to spiritual help has created so much peace and ease for me, as I hope it will for you! It feels vulnerable to post about this because it's so intimate. But as with everything on my blog, podcast and patreon it's with the intention to help you, which helps me get through the vulnerability.
We are all doing the best we can where we are. A revolution isn't a single event, it doesn't even have to be a bloody war. It can be the radical act of all of us changing where just a small percent of our spending goes.
Content Warning: Caregiver abuse
The thing that surprised me most about starting psychic mediumship development class was how many messages I would get from practicing with classmates. Sometimes I will get 4-5 in a class, usually it’s 2. I just didn’t expect all that intel from the other side of the veil.
Almost everyone who knew me as a child has passed to the other side and since I experienced caregiver abuse it does make sense that I would potentially hear from abusers.
Most of my young adult life I was telling myself “It wasn’t that bad so it didn’t affect me.” That was incorrect and in fact it did affect me deeply.
The wounds that separated me from being able to love and trust other people leaked into every area of my life.
My dad’s mom was a March 29th Aries and she and my grandpa drank martinis every night. I had no concept how much alcohol that was until I was 21 and started drinking. In my last conversation with my beloved step mother in person before she passed (I was 19) she told me my grandparents were alcoholics. I didn’t really understand what Liz was saying until I took my first sip of a martini.
Recently I’ve been doing some healing of an ancestral wound on the maternal side of my lineage. (Just putting it out there that we each have DOUBLE the ancestors as our parents. And our kids have double the ancestors we do. The math is nuts—while we don’t cause a lot of the stuff we have to heal it is still our responsibility to do it.)
This healing has involved reliving some caregiver abuse, and I’m always so grateful I have an ongoing biweekly therapy appointment to process.
For me when I open up one can of worms around caregiver abuse the other worms sometimes want to get witnessed.
So when I got this message from another student in my development class of my dad’s mom putting on rose hand lotion (which would have been my favorite) and sharing the message “She just likes to be at peace with you. Being with you and being peaceful.”
It had me weeping for the rest of class.
This woman, the few months I lived with her, beat me so hard with a wooden spoon it broke. And she punished me for breaking the wooden spoon. I was four years young. I have relived these scenes many times since I’ve been willing to heal from them and it’s rough. Frankly, I wish I could astral project and hand her a joint and take away the martinis.
It just struck me so suddenly when I got this message that her being peaceful with me was something she wasn’t capable of doing when I was little. She was really resentful of my mother for divorcing my dad and took it out on me.
I have always shined a bright light and I can imagine as a little one I was bafflingly loving, darling and sweet.
Some people react really poorly to my light and as a grown-up I am very discerning. But to be trapped in a house with a caregiver who wants to punish light and curiosity is… I don’t have words. Just so much love for that little girl who didn’t deserve it.
So I’m grateful for the message even though I do keep my distance from those ancestors. I love and have compassion for them but I don’t mingle and I don’t even use their last name anymore.
But how sweet to know that this message of peace was brought to me as I was wrestling with a different experience of physical violence from a different caregiver. It was quite healing.
Spirit has a way of surprising us with messages. I feel like I’m on little quests that keep revealing new layers of truth to me. I hope to be brave and willing to continue allowing surprises and witness and believe the truth.
My psychic mediumship practice brings forth messages of love and healing for the highest good. I want to get really good at delivering messages compassionately. A client said of our reading “There was such a realness and depth in the way you showed up with me. I felt held and seen in a way I didn’t expect.”
Book a one on one with me if you’re curious about what messages might be waiting for you!
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Our arrival day to the Alchemy Burn was Thursday this year instead of Wednesday. Last year we rolled in around 4PM and our RV had already arrived and all we had to do was unpack and mourn the fact that our RV vendor had neglected to fill the rig with water. Some gentle problem solving in cool turning cold weather late in the day without a lot of distractions because most folks arrive Thursday or Friday.
This year, we arrived on Thursday which meant getting up early and packing the car. I was stressed about whether or not all of our stuff and things were going to fit in Rachael’s SUV, even with the addition of a roof bag this year. We did it (I was so proud) and were on our way. I want to point out here that stress also wears out the body pretty fast and I was more stressed about packing our stuff than I was conscious of.
We were waylaid first by Bojangles for breakfast sandwiches. Here’s an aside about Bojangles–this Southern fast food restaurant is a revelation. Their biscuits are PERFECT and fluffy and they serve real bacon and the iced tea is incredible.
I adore iced tea and when I visit the South I like to enjoy one sweet tea and this time I cashed it in on a giant half unsweet and sweet iced tea and it was incredible. (I prefer unsweet tea but enjoy sweet tea as a treat.) I think it’s the quality of the tea leaves and how Bojangles steeps it–it’s strong.
Rachael loves their dessert Boberry biscuits and she’s practically perfect in every way and usually correct about everything and she was very correct to order us two to bring with us to the Burn. (A Taurus with a Capricorn Rising–she knows things.)
We were waylaid a second time after we ate our breakfast since Rach forgot to leave the key for the dog sitter. We doubled back–luckily we hadn’t yet arrived at the Burn and gone through the gate which would have been way harder to double back. Saved by the Bojangles detour of delight!
A 36 minute trip in a weighed down SUV became a 2 hour trip, but our RV still wasn’t being delivered til 3 so we had plenty of time to arrive and unload the car.
Outdoor events are so affected by weather, obviously, which I appreciate in an ancestral connection kind of way.
We are not that many generations away from having our entire lives be massively affected by weather. I love getting to be someplace outdoors with my clothes nearby and able to change as the weather shifts. It’s an intimacy with Land we don’t typically get with our climate controlled, insulated interiors.
We unloaded the car swiftly and with a Helping Hand to pull our heavy ass generator out of the car. “Another one of these” he muttered as we pulled it out. At a Burn you need to bring everything except a toilet, a generator is a luxury but it’s how the whole place is filled with sound and lights. The gentle hummmmm of the generators whizzing is almost white noise by the end.
We put up the pop-up tent right away (another Rachael Great Idea TM) and had some shade and a break to rest and hydrate. I was feeling hot but unwilling to open my suitcase to find something cooler to wear because I wanted to wait for the RV. That was an error.
I did, however, realize after I got back from dropping the car in parking that I was getting nauseous from the heat and asked our camp mates if I could have one of their rapidly melting pedialyte popsicles. They gave me two and I put one on the back of my neck while I drank the other one.
Getting heat sick is something I inherited from my maternal line. I remember when I was little my mom would get crabby and mean when it was hot. I learned a cold washcloth on her neck went a long way but I had no idea how she was feeling til I hit my thirties and realized what was happening to her through my own experience.
The more sensitive I become spiritually my body becomes more sensitive. I understand this now as a super power.
A lot of people were accused of witchcraft because of their herbal remedies, perceptual sensitivities and “knowing” things. What we think of now as neurodivergence is likely the natural diversity of human understanding.
Coloniality strips us of so much ancestral wisdom, including what our lineage did with our gifts and sensitivities. Imagine being raised to understand, curate, shepherd and protect our sensitivities and the ways we perceive the world. Instead our society holds our belonging (an actual human need) hostage to our conformity.
One of the things I value most about a Burn is it’s a whole bunch of neurodivergent folks delighting in their differences and sharing them in curated ways. Freak flags are flying and it’s gorgeous.
I wanted to go and do and see all the things popping up around the Burn but I knew my body was requiring me to rest. The RV arrived and because of the generator we could run the A/C for awhile and I got unpacked, dressed in something far lighter than my cute black arrival outfit, and Rachael Great Idea TM delivered me a Viva paper towel doused in some ice that had fallen out of the cooler.
Our camp (Bunny Reasons) has a common sitting area and collectively has five pop-up shelters with cute purple roofs. I love collective interdependence it makes things so easy and social. After my rest I went and sat in my “office” (a friend called my camp chair with attached table and it’s very apt, when I settle in someplace I am on my business) and caught up with everyone.
Getting heat sick isn’t like just cooling down and gathering energy again. I’m pretty much done for the day once my body overheats. It’s not something I can power through. Sometimes I get a dehydration hangover that makes me nauseous the next day. I can’t imagine how I would feel or how sick I would get if I hadn’t stopped drinking alcohol 12 years ago.
I used to live dissociated and overriding my body in all manner of ways until I would get so sick my doctor would tell me that resting meant being in bed and not using my brain for a week at a time.
I was so grateful for our kick it space so I could be social and feel like a participant because it can be such a bummer to feel sidelined by my body’s requirement for rest. I even got to help someone fulfill a need! I had just met Al and he said to the group “I have a 5-10 minute task I need help with” and I thought I would have to say no due to capacity. The task was doing a manicure on him! I was absolutely available for a manicure! It was a joyous bonding activity and the launch of our wonderful friendship!
My scarcity mindset tries to kick up in times like this when I’m torn between Going and Doing vs Sitting and Being. The FOMO (Fear of Missing Out) monster thinks there’s some magic happening I can’t be part of. Instead of focusing on where I’m at and creating JOWID (Joy Of Whatever I’m Doing). The magic was right where I was at!
Lying in bed that night, having told myself I was just going to have a Disco Nap at 8:45PM after walking the equivalent of eight blocks wiped me out, I kept pep talking myself about how surrendering to my body is the only way and my body is closer to my intuition than my conscious mind. My intuition is always correct and I kept thinking about this person I took Akashic Mentorship Level One with.
At the time they were recently disabled and reflecting that all the rest they need got them closer to their intuition and able to access the Akashic realms with more ease. That perhaps part of their body’s disability was opening up deeper abilities in other ways. That hit me profoundly.
My basic pep talk for when my brain wants to do what my body is not available for is “What is for me will not pass me by.”
How serendipitous that our arrival to the Burn was waylaid so I wasn’t out in the heat any longer than what made me so sick in the first place! It was actually a very fun road trip, Rach and I can make anything fun.
The next morning I got nauseous while prepping for the day I realized I should just stay put at camp again til my body settled down. I just released all control and all effs about how I spent my time and was satisfied to sit in our kick it space. (I was so nauseous I turned down BACON offered to me by Alex who is a Camp Daddy Breakfast Master).
It all worked out so delightfully because Psychic (that’s her Burn name; I still don’t have one) brought a craft bin with coloring books and all manner of fun crafty things to delight someone sitting down. I spent several hours coloring and chatting with the folks who had to come back to camp because their psilocybin was working too well for them to be walking around. It was incredibly bonding and fostered an intimacy level that we wouldn’t have achieved without our bodies telling us it’s time to sit down and take it easy.
I didn’t have the time I thought I wanted to have I had an even better time enjoying the experience I was meant to have and that was such a joy. My body finally chilled out that evening and I had probably one of the best nights from 2025 dancing to queer music by DJ Al and watching a wooden sculpture of Marsha P. Johnson throwing a brick go up in flames after honoring the recent death of fellow Stonewall Rebellion hero Miss Major Griffin-Gracy.
I could never have been as present or joyous that evening without surrendering to my body and letting her recover.
More reflections on this Burn to come, but perhaps you want to listen to my podcast episode 187 about my experience at my first Burn event.
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I have been to Atlanta Pride at least three times. The first one I remember mostly a Femme Mafia party in Rachael’s backyard with multiple kiddie pools and enough rainbow jello shots to cover Michael Anthony’s countertop in preparation. The event is fuzzy but I do remember pulling a Brandon Walsh and hiding a too-drunk-to-drive Femme’s keys. I don’t recall if we went to the formal Pride festivities in town.
The second Pride I remember attending was one of the “parking lot” Pride years. Typically in Piedmont Park there was a time when it was in a parking lot instead. Cement gets hot. We went to a lot of booths. I’m pretty sure I was still drinking so that memory is also fuzzy. It was fun but not memorable. I do remember me and Rachael looked cute and did a promenade.
Atlanta is my hometown of choice and I have been here many times in twenty years so maybe we went to another one? But never in the park.
This year, I came to town specifically for the Alchemy Burn, which I attended for the first time last year with Rachael and had a blast. (Podcast episode 187 is my reflection and explanation about the event if you’re curious what a Burn involves and what the culture taught me about community and interdependence.)
It worked out for me to get to stay for two weeks this time, a kind of “work from Atlanta” gaycation and other than teaching Zoom aerobics twice, a pet Reiki / psychic reading, some texting with health concierge clients, I have been mostly resting and prepping for the Burn. Sometimes you gotta trust the flow of rest and work.
Given all that rest you would think the gay stamina and excitement for Pride would be high. Rachael’s couch is comfy, her dogs are great and there are abundant just-for-fun beverages (category includes fizzy water, magnesium beverages, decaf iced tea etc). I checked with my intuition about whether to go to the Pride Festival or Dyke March and I was told that we would have fun and our energy would level up the people around us without us having to exert any special effort. That was enough to motivate me off the couch and into a full face of make-up.
When I emerged from the guest room wearing a red sequin dress Rachael said “That escalated quickly,” and went to go get ready.
I used to try to squeeze every bit of daytime and nightlife activities during NYC Pride (and that area has at least one Pride festival per borough) which is why I call it Gay Stamina Month. I’m grateful I’ve been willing to change and become more in tune with my intuition and what my body needs. When assessing our options for how to have a Pride weekend, I liked the idea of going through the Pride booths at Piedmont Park, the main festival part of Pride with at least three stages.
I haven’t looked at any websites or any official Atlanta Pride communications. One of the best parts of having whatever guest room Rachael has as my gaycation home is that she knows what’s going on and all I need to do is follow her.
She wisely chose to get us an uber to Piedmont Park which is in the middle of the city through the traffic with pretty limited parking for the amount of gays streaming in. (Sexuality is a spectrum, allies are wonderful AND I just like to think about us celebrating the gay parts of ourselves at Pride in defiant rebellion of the heterocapitalistwhitesupremacist overculture. You choose how you want to language that experience!) Also: one of our last remaining Stonewall elders just became an ancestor. Miss Major Griffin-Gracy ascended on Monday—if you’re queer you owe a big part of your liberation to her work.
Atlanta Pride has no cover charge which I think is the correct choice. I worked as Volunteer Coordinator for Jersey City Pride for five years. It was also free during that time and the hard working volunteer Board I was part of fundraised and got sponsorships. Corporate pride is cliche and annoying (and side eye to any corporation gutting DEI while acting like they care for gay people) but it does support the very expensive infrastructure and permitting required to host a Pride Festival.
The Dyke March was started as a protest to the corporate Pride (I have been told by my gay elders) and many continue to this day as grass roots community funded non-permitted protests. I love.
Purity is a symptom of white supremacist culture and I do my best to allow nuance. I loved Atlanta Pride in Piedmont Park! And I’m glad and grateful there is no cover charge.
Rach and I walked through first the corporate tents. The Cocacola booth was doing THE MOST and since Atlanta is the hometown of Coke it tracks that Coke sponsors the main pride stage AND has this rockin booth. Seriously, it’s some kind of trailer with a gogo box inside of it and a queer Black woman DJ on the ceiling spinning incredible music. We got tiny Diet Coke cans (perfect because I prefer the top third crispy part of a regular size DC).
The party vibes were so fun right there at the Coke booth. Coming in and out of the park we stopped to dance and party with the other revelers nearby.
Rach walked me over to the edge of a meadow to see all the pop up tents folks had lined up at 6AM to place for the day. (Talk about Gay Stamina.) A great opportunity for folks to have good seats for the main stage and some shade or a personal gathering space.
The corporate booths continued and we were gifted a lot of swag. It had been so long since I’d been to a main Pride festival that I forgot how much swag happens and was glad I brought a big tote bag.
A sign of the 2020s, since Atlanta recently decriminalized cannabis, in addition to White Claw and other alcoholic beverage samples, there was a THC bevvy sample offered to us. And delightfully I noticed many whifs of vapes and joints as we wandered. I remember in the 2013 Dyke March in NYC scooting into a Manhattan alley to smoke with my friends. I love this evolution since I stopped drinking in 2013 and now just party with the plant.
Rach kept saying that the next crop of tents was going to be independent sellers and then community organizations and I truly couldn’t believe how massive and long this festival was. At one point she said we were only 2/3 through it and we had been wandering for an hour already.
The best booth overall for me was the crystal shop. There was a butch with some kind of rock crushing equipment available for anyone who wanted to buy a geode for $5-$20 depending on the size and get it popped open for them. It was a great demo and the vibes in the crystal tent were exquisite. I bought a quartz crystal for Rach & her spouse J’s house to put under the rosemary. (It enhances the protection and healing offered by that plant, which I suggest by the entrance to the property or to the home or both.)
It took me a bit to realize we were walking by a gorgeous lake and I loved how easy it was to take a break from the crowd and go be in nature and regulate. I loved how the trees in the park provided abundant shade. We passed a Family stage for all ages entertainment (no one performing but lots of kids running around the stage and seating area). We wandered through an artist marketplace tent with little tables full of gorgeous art.
We took a break on a SWING overlooking a fountain in the lake. I love getting to be on a swing built for grown up rest.
We kept going and hit the second stage with drag performers. There were food trucks and a few bar booths.
Walking through the crowd past the booths was much like being IN a pride parade without the hassle and crush of being on the sidelines. I said “Happy Pride!” to anyone who made eye contact and waved the Inclusive Pride flag I got from a booth. Rach and I took some of our best and gayest photos together and we essentially just did a two and a half hour walk around a lake and practiced our promenading for the Burn this weekend.
I like to call things like meeting a friend for a walk around a lake or a fitness class a “self care hang” and this for sure qualifies. Also, we left before we had massive human needs and didn’t buy expensive food and had a great time.
We walked a few blocks to catch our uber and while we were at the light this pair on a red motorcycle stopped at the light. I hollered to the Femme that I liked her gorgeous fun color faux fur coat and then the driver clad in all red leathers pulled off their helmet to say “Bevin! It’s Davey!” and it was the aerialist teacher that I taught an aerobics & aerialist class with in 2018! What a small serendipitous world. And since Dykes on Bikes is my fav part of any Pride Parade I loved that I got to witness a motorcycle moment without needing to get up early for Pride Sunday.
All in all I give Atlanta Pride in the Park 10/10 and highly suggest it for any Pride travel you might want to experience. Delta was a corporate sponsor and I do love to fly with them (not spon, Rach sponsored this trip with her skymiles).
An earlier iteration of Bevin would have wanted to DO ALL THE THINGS but given the evolution of my body and spirit and how I feel in crowds now, the two and a half hours was plenty. I work hard to regard myself with love and grace. I’m saving my gay stamina for Alchemy this weekend and grateful I will have a bed & a chair really nearby to rest whenever I need to.
PS Rach and I met through a blogging platform in 2002 and got to meet in person in 2005. Internet friends are real friends and I’m suuuuper grateful for our passionate confessional blogging in the early aughts for bringing us close and for our long standing friendship! I love you Rach!!!!
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