The Rebelle Ritual: The Sunday Edition

🔥🌑 THE SACRED COHERENCE RESET

Amber ✨🤍🌿 — Sun, 01 Feb 2026 23:35:41 GMT

The Sacred Coherence Reset

I’m entering February differently.

Not with resolutions.
Not with a challenge.
Not with another attempt to fix myself.

I’m entering it with structure, sobriety, devotion, and fire.

For most of my life, I stayed busy. Productive. Capable. Always moving toward the next thing — the next goal, the next relationship, the next version of myself that I thought would finally feel like enough.

And every time I arrived, it still didn’t.

Not because I failed — but because I was avoiding stillness.

This month is a conscious step out of noise, stimulation, and self-distraction — and into what I’m calling The Sacred Coherence Reset: a lived, embodied return to alignment between my body, my faith, my nervous system, and the way I move through my days.

This isn’t about becoming more productive, visible, or impressive.

It’s about becoming coherent.

What This Is

The Sacred Coherence Reset is a month-long devotional rhythm rooted in sobriety, structure, and truth.

Not just sobriety from alcohol — though that matters — but sobriety from anything that keeps me from fully inhabiting my life.

It’s built around:

• early mornings and early nights
• daily prayer and time with Jesus
• disciplined movement and long walks in nature
• clean food, deep rest, and emotional honesty
• silence where there used to be scrolling
• structure where there used to be leakage

I’ve spent years numbing, buffering, or outrunning my own interior life — through work, stimulation, relationships, or always chasing what’s next.

This month is me choosing to stay.

Not to escape life — but to stabilize inside it.

Not rigid order.
Sacred order.

The kind that calms the nervous system, sharpens discernment, and restores authority from the inside out.

I’ll be sharing this as a weekly series throughout February — not as instruction, but as witness.

Why I’m Doing This

Because I don’t want a louder life.

I want a truer one.

I’ve lived as a woman who loved God but kept herself distracted from Him.
Who wanted peace but fed stimulation.
Who did the healing, the understanding, the processing — and still felt ungrounded.

I’m sober now.
And sobriety has taught me something sobering:

Nothing external will ever settle me.

No amount of success.
No relationship.
No next chapter.

What settles a woman is devotion — lived, not talked about.

This reset isn’t punishment or restriction.
It’s love with boundaries.

It’s choosing not to soften the edges of my life anymore.
Not to numb discomfort.
Not to negotiate with my own potential.

February isn’t about hustle for me.

It’s about alignment.

And it’s how I’m preparing to lock in for 2026 — not from force, but from authority.

Who I’m Speaking To

I’m speaking to women who are tired of pretending softness alone will save them.

To the women who are wise, self-aware, spiritually awake — and still exhausted.

The ones who have stayed busy to avoid being still.
Who have chased growth while avoiding grounding.
Who are done performing wellness and ready to live it.

This is for you if:

• you’re sober or sobriety-curious
• you’re overstimulated but under-nourished
• you crave discipline that feels loving, not punishing
• you want your life to feel ordered, not chaotic
• you’re done numbing, bypassing, or self-abandoning

This isn’t for everyone.

It’s for women ready to stop circling and start standing.

How This Will Unfold

Each week in February, I’ll share reflections on the arc of refinement:

• ignition
• purification
• tempering
• embodiment

Not as a formula — but as lived experience.

You don’t need to follow perfectly.
You don’t need to change your life overnight.
You don’t need to prove anything.

You’re welcome to read.
To mirror what resonates.
To sit with what stirs.

A Final Word

This isn’t a reset to become someone new.

It’s a reset to return to what was always true — beneath the noise, beneath the distraction, beneath the coping.

No more fucking bullshit.
No more almosts.
No more running.

Just a woman in her body.
In her faith.
In her authority.

February begins now.
Quietly.
Intentionally.
In sacred coherence.

🤍🔥

Community During the Sacred Coherence Reset

For anyone walking this month alongside me and craving grounded, nervous-system-safe connection, I’m opening a Telegram space for February.

This is not a social feed.
It’s a contained community.

A place for:

• brief check-ins
• shared reflections
• prayer requests
• sober, steady connection
• witnessing without fixing

No scrolling.
No hot takes.
No performance.

Just presence.

If you’re ready to walk this month without numbing — but not alone — you’re welcome.

I’ll share the link below. 👇🏼

Telegram Link

🤍🔥

🔒 NON-NEGOTIABLES (THE CONTAINER)

These apply every day for the full month.

🔕 Digital

• Off all social media
• No news consumption
• No passive scrolling

Because distraction has been my drug as much as anything else.

🤍 Nourishment

• Organic, natural, whole foods
• Eating slowly and intentionally
• No numbing through food or stimulation

I’m done eating to avoid feeling.

💤 Rest

• Early bedtime
• Ample sleep
• Honoring fatigue as wisdom, not weakness

Rest is not laziness. It’s repair.

📖 Devotion

• Daily time with Jesus
• Bible study and spiritual reading
• Prayer and listening — not performance

No spiritual bypassing. No spiritual branding.

🧘🏻‍♀️ Movement

• Daily yoga (morning + evening)
• Daily strength or Pilates
• Long walks in nature

I live in my body now.

🖊️ Emotional Hygiene

• Feeling emotions fully
• Releasing instead of suppressing
• Daily journaling

Nothing gets pushed down anymore.

A Closing Prayer

God,

I release the version of me who needed to stay busy to feel worthy.
The woman who chased the next thing because stillness felt unsafe.
The habits, distractions, and coping that once protected me — but no longer serve me.

I lay them down now.

I ask for coherence.
Between my body and my spirit.
Between my faith and my daily life.
Between what I say I value and how I actually live.

Teach me how to be still without fear.
How to rest without guilt.
How to stay present when my instinct is to run, numb, or reach.

I don’t ask to be rescued.
I ask to be refined.

Give me the discipline that comes from love, not punishment.
The structure that soothes instead of constrains.
The devotion that shows up quietly, consistently, and honestly.

Let my life become simple.
Let my nervous system settle.
Let my days be ordered, my spirit clear, and my yes and no be clean.

I offer this month to You.
Not as a performance.
Not as a promise to be perfect.

But as a willing return.

I choose sobriety.
I choose presence.
I choose devotion over distraction.

Meet me here — in the quiet, in the routine, in the ordinary moments where real transformation happens.

Amen.

🤍🔥

✨ Not a reader (yet)? Let’s still stay connected...

If this was forwarded to you and you’re vibing with the energy—
🖤 Sign up here to receive future love notes straight to your inbox.

Let’s stay in the ritual together:
☼ Instagram – Energy that wakes you up, turns you on, and reminds you who the f*ck you are
☼ Facebook – Longer-form shares & reflections I don’t always post elsewhere
☼ Pinterest – Mood boards, rituals, and visuals for your next era

The Sunday Edition: Vol 22

Amber ✨🤍🌿 — Sun, 25 Jan 2026 20:14:37 GMT

A Season of Refinement

I don’t know where I am on the map anymore.
I’m not even sure where the map is.

There was a time when I always knew my next move. Or at least I knew how to keep moving—how to survive, how to build, how to attach, how to push through. Movement was safety. Stillness felt dangerous.

This past year has changed that.

Everywhere I turn, the advice is the same:
hurry up, take action, leap, double down, don’t slow down now.

But my body doesn’t respond to that language anymore.
My spirit doesn’t either.

Some days, simply moving through the shape of my life—waking up, working, tending to what’s in front of me—feels like enough. And for the first time, I’m letting that be true.

I’m not in a season of growth.
I’m in a season of refinement.

And I’ve earned the right to know the difference.

I’m forty-five years old. I’ve lived a full life—several lives, really.

I was a drug-addicted teenager. In and out of jails and institutions. Arrested more times than I want to count. That was one chapter. Raw and chaotic and desperate.

Then I got pregnant at nineteen. I tried to settle down, but I was still running—from pain, from myself, from things I didn’t have language for yet. I was a child raising a child while trying to outrun my own demons.

I raised my son the best I could. I loved him deeply. And I was also a full-blown alcoholic for most of his life. I had him at nineteen. I got sober at thirty-seven. That math carries weight.

There was chaos in that chapter. For both of us.

I left his father. I moved through relationships that never lasted. I wasn’t choosing poorly—I was choosing from where I was. And where I was wasn’t healthy.

In 2015, right before I got sober, something finally broke me open. A breakup shattered me in a way nothing else had. I had put all my hope, my safety, my salvation into something outside myself—and when it fell apart, so did I.

It was my last straw.

I got sober in 2017. Not because things suddenly got better, but because I finally admitted that nothing—no substance, no relationship, no achievement—was ever going to fill the God-sized hole inside me.

Around that time, someone came home with me from a bar. And he never really left. We stayed together for ten years. Through early sobriety. Through learning how to be loved. Through learning how to love myself.

It wasn’t perfect. It wasn’t always right. And if I’m honest, it was still another place to rest my weight instead of learning how to stand on my own.

The truth is, I’ve been avoiding myself my entire life.

I’ve been in relationships since I was fourteen. I started drinking and using early. I learned how to manage a completely unmanageable life by attaching—to people, to substances, to roles, to momentum.

Sobriety opened my eyes. And still, I found ways to stay just busy enough, useful enough, comfortable enough not to fully meet myself.

I worked the twelve steps. I found relief in telling the truth. In seeing my part. In making amends. In releasing some of the shame and guilt that had followed me for decades.

I also built a successful business. Something I’m genuinely good at. Bookkeeping.

It pays my bills. It supports my life. It’s also heavy—deadlines, pressure, responsibility, taxes. I carry other people’s stress so they don’t have to. I try to create clarity and structure where there is anxiety. I know how to do that. I’ve been doing it my whole life.

And then, recently, the relationship I had outgrown finally ended.

Not cleanly. Not gently.

There was a third party. Lies. Chaos. Holding onto each other through sex. Confusion masquerading as connection. A mess.

It cracked something open in me.

Suddenly, the scaffolding I had leaned on—relationship, routine, identity—fell away. And I was left standing in a place where nothing felt certain anymore.

From the outside, everything looks fine.

My son is twenty-five.
I make good money.
I drive a nice car.
I can travel.
I have friends who love me.

So what’s the problem?

There isn’t one.

This life was built on what the world tells us should be enough:
love, money, success, independence, freedom.

And for a while, it was.

But it wasn’t built on God.

And eventually, even the most well-constructed life will ask to be rebuilt from a deeper place.

I don’t feel lost.
I feel stripped down to what’s real.

I don’t feel behind.
I feel honest.

This isn’t a season of becoming more.
It’s a season of laying things down.

Of refinement.
Of listening.
Of learning how to be still without numbing.
Of standing without leaning on substitutes.

I don’t have answers right now.

I’m learning how to stay.
How to listen.
How to let God meet me where all the noise has finally quieted.

And for the first time in my life, I’m not running from that.

And that brings me to the question everyone eventually asks—
what the fuck is next?
Or maybe more honestly… what the fuck is even happening?

I don’t have an answer.

I don’t see a big picture. I don’t have a five-year plan. I don’t even know what this season is shaping into. All I can see is the next thing in front of me. The next right thing. The next small devotion.

Most days that looks like slow mornings.
Reading my Bible.
Bible study.
Working with a mentor and learning how to exist in this space without trying to fix it, change it, or rush my way out of it.

It looks like moving my body.
Keeping my house clean.
Helping my son and his girlfriend navigate life—not by preaching, but by living in a way that feels steady and real.

It’s not cute.
It’s not aesthetic.
It’s not something you’d package up for Instagram.

It’s client work.
It’s refining a business that looks successful from the outside but has been quietly drowning me from the inside.
It’s removing what doesn’t fit anymore—even if it once did.

Most days I’m on edge.
I cry easily.
I feel everything.

And at the same time, I feel overwhelming gratitude for the smallest things—
a fire burning,
the sun coming up,
a walk with a friend.

It’s all happening at once.

I’m tired of keeping an image.
Tired of showing up a certain way.
Tired of “getting through” things that actually took me out without ever fully letting myself feel them.

I’ve seen where that road leads.

I’ve watched women keep working, keep building, keep pushing while their bodies are screaming for mercy. Their organs are failing. Their eyes are dull. They’re exhausted. They never stopped—not for maternity leave, not for grief, not for rest. Still talking about numbers. Still chasing more.

I don’t want that life.

I don’t want to be impressive.
I want to be well.

I want calm.
Peace.
Less time online.
More time in my actual life.

I don’t want to force myself to show up when I’m tired and need rest. The online world feels so far removed from how I want to live now. Loud. Performative. Hungry.

So what does this mean?

I honestly don’t know.

I’ll be here. I’ll write. But I don’t know how often or about what.
I’ll post when I feel conviction—when something feels aligned instead of obligatory.
I’ll share pieces of my day because I enjoy that kind of quiet connection, and I love following people who do the same. It feels human. It feels enough.

I’ll refine my bookkeeping business. I’ll make it lighter. Cleaner. More sustainable.

And beyond that… who really knows.

For the first time in my life, I’m not building from my own desires, timelines, or goals.

I’m finding God.
I’m talking to Jesus.
I’m listening for the Holy Spirit.
I’m learning how to be led instead of driven.

This isn’t clarity.
It’s trust.

And for now, that’s the only thing I’m willing to build on.

—
Amber

✨ Not a reader (yet)? Let’s still stay connected...

If this was forwarded to you and you’re vibing with the energy—
🖤 Sign up here to receive future love notes straight to your inbox.

The Sunday Edition: Vol 21

Amber ✨🤍🌿 — Mon, 12 Jan 2026 00:16:37 GMT

«The Whole Vibe»

2025 Was Not a Year of Building

2025 was not a year of building for me.
It was a year of letting things fall away.

Everything I tried felt heavy.
Simple things took effort.
Some days, getting through the work I had to do felt like climbing uphill with no end in sight.

I was also dealing with the turbulence of not letting go of a relationship that was already over.
And that did something to me.

It made me question myself.
My judgment.
My worth.
My timing.

There was so much space suddenly.
Space that used to be filled by another person.
And now it was just… empty.

For a while, it was excruciating.
I hated it.
That’s a strong word, but it’s the honest one.

It felt like death.

After years of growth and expansion, I hit a wall so hard it knocked the wind out of me.
I can say now — without drama, without shame — that I was depressed.

And if you know me, you know this isn’t how I usually move through things.

I’m someone who gets through hard seasons by doing more.
By working harder.
By staying in motion.

But this time, I couldn’t.

There was no extra gear to access.
No adrenaline to borrow from the future.
No strategy that could override what my body and spirit were asking for.

I was able to hold my business together.
I showed up for my clients.
I did what needed to be done.

But it wasn’t my best work.
And it wasn’t my fullest expression.

Still — I’m grateful for that.
Grateful that I could tend what I had without forcing expansion I didn’t have the capacity for.

Now, with some distance, I can feel it:
something has shifted.

That stifling energy — the feeling of being stuck, holding onto the past, unable to move forward — it left a wound in me. A deep one.

But wounds, when tended, create space.

And now, a few weeks into the new year, I can feel new energy moving in.
Not frantic energy.
Not performative energy.

Clean energy.

Praise Jesus.

I’m ready to show back up — but not the way I used to.

I’m no longer willing to do the most while neglecting myself.
I’m no longer willing to take on more just to make more money.

It has to balance.
Time.
Energy.
Health.

That matters more to me than anything else now.

I’m learning how to build slower.
With intention.
With discernment.

I’m done with the hype.
Done with advice from people who don’t live lives I admire.
Done with the online noise of strategies, proximity, urgency, and “act now or you’re behind.”

It all feels loud and hollow.

What I actually want is simple.

I want to build a business that provides real service.
That helps people create financial wellness and stability in their own lives.

I don’t fully know what that looks like yet.
And for once, I’m okay with that.

I’m showing up each day.
Doing the work in front of me.
Trusting that it will unfold slowly.

There is no rush.

I’m tired of “hurry up.”
Tired of being made to feel behind.
Tired of outsourcing trust.

It’s time we start trusting ourselves.

I’ve had to look honestly at my own motives — at what I thought I wanted versus what I actually want to live with.

Of course the idea of easy money is tempting.
Who wouldn’t want effortless abundance?

But the truth is — what’s being sold is often a dream, not a life.
Not something you can sustainably build for yourself.

That’s the part I missed for a long time.

What I want won’t look like anyone else’s work.
It won’t be built the way someone else built theirs.

And the quieter I get, the clearer it becomes.

Shut out the noise.
Trust God.
Trust timing.
Trust myself.

I don’t know yet what I’ll create next.

But I trust that when it comes, it will be honest.
And it will be mine.

»What’s on my Mind«

Sabbath, As I’m Learning to Live It

Sunday is my Sabbath.

No alarm.
No rush.
No pressure to get ahead.

I sleep in.
I read my Bible slowly.
I walk with a friend.
I go to Lakepoint and let worship move through my body.
I get a workout in.
I connect with my online yogis.
I take the dogs for a long, unhurried walk.
And I write this newsletter.

Nothing is urgent.
Nothing is pulling at me.

It’s simply a day devoted to taking care of my mind, my body, and my soul.

This is what I want for myself — not just on Sundays, but every day.
And I’m actively building a life that supports that.

I don’t want to be online more.
I don’t want to schedule more Zoom calls.
I don’t want to build something just because everyone else is doing it or because it looks impressive from the outside.

I don’t want what everyone else wants.

I want to be in my life.
To feel my days.
To be present — not rushing through them, not performing them, not surviving them.

I don’t want to stay in relationships out of familiarity or comfort when there’s no growth or alignment.
I don’t want to work just to make enough money to scrape by.

F that.

I want joy.
Ease.
A felt connection to God woven into my days.

I want to wake up and be okay with my life as it is — not waiting for some future version of happiness to arrive.

I’ve spent too many years telling myself I’ll be happy when…
When things are easier.
When I’ve made more money.
When life looks different.

But when what?

I’m choosing to be happy now.
Not because everything is perfect — but because I’m filled with the Holy Spirit and I get to live each day in a way that feels holy.

The way I want to take care of myself requires time.
It requires resources.
And I know that means I have to create those things for myself.

But I refuse to do it by burning myself out.
By making my days too full.
By ignoring that quiet inner voice that says, Hey… let’s rest. Let’s be gentle. Let’s be easy with ourselves.

That voice matters.

The small things matter.
The simple things matter.

This is the life I’m choosing to build — slowly, intentionally, faithfully.

And today, on the Sabbath, I rest in it.

🤍

P.S. If this stirred something in you, don’t keep it to yourself.
Share it with a woman who’s ready to rise, soften, and remember her power.
The Rebelle Ritual is more than a newsletter—it’s a revolution. 🐆🖤

🔐 Ready to go deeper with me?

This space is reader-supported, meaning you help keep the ritual alive.

When you become a paid subscriber, you’re not just supporting my work—you’re stepping into something sacred. A space where we grow, rise, and rebel together.

Here’s what you’ll receive on the inside:

✨ Exclusive subscriber-only content
💬 Access to our creative community + group chat
🔮 100 Days of Devotion
🖤 VIXEN RISING 30 Day Challenge

If this space nourishes you, consider becoming a paid subscriber.
It’s an energetic exchange I don’t take lightly—and I’m so grateful for you choosing to walk this path with me.

Let’s keep building this wild, devoted, soft-power revolution together.

Upgrade to Paid

✨ Not a reader (yet)? Let’s still stay connected...

If this was forwarded to you and you’re vibing with the energy—
🖤 Sign up here to receive future love notes straight to your inbox.

In In the meantime… send this to a woman who’s done playing small.
She deserves the reminder:
You get to live softer, rise rebelliously, and take up every damn inch of your life. 🐆

The Sunday Edition: Vol 20

Amber ✨🤍🌿 — Sun, 04 Jan 2026 21:57:07 GMT

«The Whole Vibe»

January 2026 » Simplicity

This winter I realized I don’t want to do more.
I don’t want another reset or a new system or a version of myself that requires constant maintenance.

I don’t want to optimize my life.

What I want is to simplify it.

It started quietly. Not with a big decision—just small acts of clearing. A folder on my computer. A drawer that had been holding things I didn’t even remember owning. Letting go of what was taking up space without giving anything back. Making room not for something new, but for myself.

The world didn’t stop while I did this.
Clients still needed their work done.
Emails still came in.
Life kept moving at its usual pace.

And that’s when it clicked—you don’t actually have to abandon yourself just because everything else is still in motion. You don’t have to keep proving you can do it all. You don’t have to keep showing up harder just to stay relevant.

For me, simplicity isn’t withdrawal.
It’s support.

It looks like systems that make my life quieter instead of louder. Auto-emails for tax deadlines. Clear workflows in my calendar. Tasks that repeat so my nervous system doesn’t have to stay on alert. Less urgency. More order.

It looks like being clear with people about what matters to me now—and letting that be enough. I’m not rushing. I’m not fixing chaos that isn’t mine. If someone needs speed, pressure, or drama, they’ll have to find someone else to build that with.

Simplicity also shows up in my daily rituals. Journaling each morning to clear my head and tell myself the truth. Tracking my workouts—not to control my body, but to care for it and rebuild trust. Keeping my life organized in Google Calendar and Asana so nothing lives in my mind or quietly drains my energy.

This isn’t about productivity.
It’s about order.

It’s about knowing where things belong so I can rest when it’s time to rest.

It also means not getting pulled back into emotional spirals that cost me my peace. I know what I need now—stability, steadiness, quiet. If that isn’t respected, I will block and delete. Not to be dramatic. Not to punish. But to protect the life I’m building.

My mornings are slower. I don’t rush myself anymore. I sit with God. I pray. I read. I let the day arrive instead of attacking it.

I do what I say I’m going to do with my health. I plan my meals. I show up for the workouts I’ve already committed to. I handle the work that belongs to today without spiraling into what’s next or what might come later.

There is always more to do.
There always will be.

But I’ve learned that anxiety doesn’t come from the workload—it comes from how I meet it.

Simplicity in my finances looks the same way. Consistency over intensity. The same debt payments each month. Automatic savings. Living within my budget so my life feels stable instead of stretched.

This season isn’t about escape.
It’s about alignment.

Routine and ritual that support my body.
Order that supports my mind.
Devotion that supports my soul.

And if you’re tired—really tired—of the world’s way of making everything harder than it needs to be, maybe this is your invitation too.

Not to disappear from your life.
Not to burn it down.

But to simplify it enough that you can finally feel at home inside it.

»What’s on my Mind«

There’s a moment that comes when the noise finally stops working.

When the routines, the people, the coping, the familiar rhythms no longer soothe you — they just exhaust you. That’s where I found myself this past year. Stripped down in ways I didn’t choose, but apparently needed.

Clearing my life of chaos hasn’t been clean or empowering or aesthetic. It’s been uncomfortable. Lonely. Quiet in a way that makes you confront yourself instead of distracting yourself.

Most people stay comfortable. Not because it’s good — but because it’s familiar. Because changing means disappointing people. Saying no. Losing access. Losing roles you once played well. Stepping out of rooms you were once welcome in.

And I kept asking myself:
If I keep doing what I’ve always done, where will I be in a month?
In six?
In a year?

The answer scared me more than the unknown.

Losing people this year hurt more than I knew how to name at the time. I circled the same grief again and again, hoping it would soften if I just tried harder, loved better, stayed longer. It didn’t. It only kept me stuck.

What I didn’t expect was how beautiful the other side would be.

Not easy.
Not joyful all at once.
But steady.

That other side looked like God meeting me in the quiet.
Like opening my Bible when I had nothing left to say.
Like finding a Bible study — a room full of women who weren’t performing faith, but living it.

There were days I cried for no clear reason. Days I felt deeply depressed. Days I wondered if I had made my life too small.

But alongside that grief was something new — strength.
A feeling of being held instead of hustled.
Guided instead of driven.

I truly believe I had to be pulled away from everything to surrender. Not in a dramatic way — but in a slow, winter way. Where there’s nothing to do but listen.

We always reach for what’s familiar, even when it’s hurting us. Letting go feels like death. The unknown feels like free-fall. But it’s the only way something new can actually take root.

So this season, I’m choosing less.
Less noise.
Less access.
Less explanation.

I’m stepping back from social media.
I’m turning toward God.
I’m reading Scripture.
I’m learning how to trust a plan bigger than my fear.

And in the quiet, I’m being shown where I resist.
Where I don’t obey.
Where I need to confess.
Where forgiveness — for myself and others — is still unfinished.

This isn’t comfortable.
But it’s honest.
And it’s healing.

Sometimes coherence doesn’t look like having it together.
It looks like finally letting yourself be held.

Happy Sunday xoxo 🖤

🔐 Ready to go deeper with me?

This space is reader-supported, meaning you help keep the ritual alive.

When you become a paid subscriber, you’re not just supporting my work—you’re stepping into something sacred. A space where we grow, rise, and rebel together.

Here’s what you’ll receive on the inside:

✨ Exclusive subscriber-only content
💬 Access to our creative community + group chat
🔮 100 Days of Devotion
🖤 VIXEN RISING 30 Day Challenge

If this space nourishes you, consider becoming a paid subscriber.
It’s an energetic exchange I don’t take lightly—and I’m so grateful for you choosing to walk this path with me.

Let’s keep building this wild, devoted, soft-power revolution together.

Upgrade to Paid

✨ Not a reader (yet)? Let’s still stay connected...

If this was forwarded to you and you’re vibing with the energy—
🖤 Sign up here to receive future love notes straight to your inbox.

In In the meantime… send this to a woman who’s done playing small.
She deserves the reminder:
You get to live softer, rise rebelliously, and take up every damn inch of your life. 🐆

The Sunday Edition: Vol 19

Amber ✨🤍🌿 — Sun, 28 Dec 2025 17:15:53 GMT

«The Whole Vibe»

A Year I Lived Through My Body

2025 wasn’t a year I conquered.
It was a year I survived, softened, metabolized, and slowly came home to myself.

There were months where I felt hollow.
Months where I felt feral.
Months where I finally felt like myself again—but quieter, less performative, more honest.

This year asked me to stop narrating my healing and actually feel it.

To let grief move through my chest.
To let anger burn clean instead of turning inward.
To let pleasure return without guilt.
To let my nervous system learn safety again—slowly, imperfectly, humanly.

I didn’t build this year with goals.
I built it with my body.

What 2025 Asked Me to Learn (and What I’m Leaving Behind)

There’s a version of this year I could tell that makes me look cleaner.
Stronger. More resolved. More healed.

But that wouldn’t be honest.

One of the hardest lessons of 2025 lived inside a relationship that never quite ended cleanly—just stretched, pulled, went quiet, came back, disappeared again. The push–pull. The ghosting. Forty-five days of silence, followed by a message about “always caring,” dropped into my life without any awareness of where I was or what it cost me to receive it.

That hurt.

Not because I wanted him back—but because my nervous system had already paid for that connection in full. Because I had done so much work to stabilize myself, to stop bracing for emotional whiplash, to rebuild trust in my own rhythm. And suddenly, there it was again—an energetic interruption without consent.

What I’ve come to see—without bypassing or blaming—is that it wasn’t him alone.
It was a pattern between two people who hadn’t finished burning through something yet.

I see where I caused harm.
Where I reached when I should have rested.
Where I stayed open when my body was asking for closure.
Where I hoped clarity would come from conversation instead of acceptance.

And I forgive myself for that.

I forgive him too—not because what happened was okay, but because holding resentment was keeping me tethered to something that no longer belonged in my life.

Forgiveness didn’t make me smaller.
It made me softer.
And softness, I’m learning, is not weakness—it’s integration.

The Quiet Miracles of This Year

While one door was closing slowly and painfully, others opened without drama.

I reconnected with friends I hadn’t spoken to in years—friendships that required no performance, no updates, no proving. We loved each other right where we were. Messy. Changed. Human.

There was even a friendship that ended badly—hurt feelings, misunderstandings, time apart. And yet, when we finally spoke again, we chose amends over ego. Presence over the past. We didn’t let old wounds dictate what was possible now.

That felt holy.

It reminded me that love doesn’t always need a future to be healing.
Sometimes it just needs forgiveness to stop hurting.

What I’m Leaving Behind

I’m leaving behind:

The need for emotional access without mutual responsibility
Reopening doors that cost my nervous system peace
Carrying resentment as proof of being wronged
Waiting for people to meet me where I already am

I’m leaving behind the idea that closure requires participation from the other person.

Sometimes closure is simply choosing not to bleed anymore.

What I’m Carrying Forward

Forgiveness has been a salve this year.
Not dramatic. Not performative.
Quiet. Regulating. Freeing.

When you hold a grudge, you don’t punish the other person—you keep them alive inside your body.
When you forgive, you take your energy back.

That doesn’t mean reconciliation.
It means sovereignty.

2025 taught me how to let love flow through me without attaching it to outcomes.
2026—Coherence—is about living that truth consistently.

My heart is softer now.
My boundaries are clearer.
And nothing has a hold on me that I don’t consciously choose.

That’s the lesson I earned.

»What’s on my Mind«

2026: The Year of Coherence

The Through-Line of Coherence

What makes this year different isn’t discipline.
It’s relationship.

Relationship with my body—listening instead of overriding.
Relationship with time—moving at the pace of what’s sustainable, not impressive.
Relationship with money—tending instead of avoiding.
Relationship with work—creating without self-extraction.

Coherence begins when nothing inside you is being ignored.

I stopped asking, How do I push forward?
I started asking, What can I actually hold?

Because capacity is the real currency.
Not speed. Not output. Not intensity.

When you build capacity, life stops feeling like something you have to recover from.

How Capacity Is Built

Capacity isn’t built in big declarations.
It’s built in small, repeated acts of care.

It’s built when you:

Pause instead of powering through
Choose rest before burnout forces it
Spend in ways that feel calm instead of compensatory
Let seasons dictate pace
Let your body lead decisions

It’s built when you stop making yourself wrong for needing what you need.

Month by month.
Season by season.
Cell by cell.

Nothing is rushed. Nothing is skipped.

Coherence Is a Practice, Not a Personality Trait

Some people were taught that coherence looks like control.
Tight routines. Perfect habits. Constant optimization.

That’s not coherence. That’s management.

Real coherence feels softer than that.
Quieter. More honest.

It feels like:

Your nervous system staying online even when things are uncertain
Your money feeling less charged and more neutral
Your work expanding without draining you
Your life having fewer sharp edges

Coherence is when your inner world and outer world stop arguing.

How You Begin (Without Overhauling Your Life)

You don’t build coherence by fixing everything at once.

You build it by choosing one relationship to tend more gently.

Start with:

Your body: ask What helps me feel safer today?
Your time: remove one thing that creates unnecessary pressure
Your money: look at it without judgment, just honesty
Your work: notice where you’re leaking energy

Then stay with that choice longer than feels exciting.

Consistency is what creates safety.
Safety is what creates coherence.

Let the Year Work on You

You don’t need a perfect plan.
You need a rhythm you can live inside.

Let winter stabilize you.
Let spring clarify you.
Let summer strengthen you.
Let fall refine you.

And let yourself change slowly.

Coherence doesn’t arrive in a breakthrough moment.
It arrives quietly, when your life finally feels like it fits.

Not loud.
Not fast.
Just aligned.

And when that happens, everything else becomes simpler—not because life is easier, but because you’re no longer fighting yourself.

That’s the work.
That’s the invitation.

xoxo Amber

🔐 Ready to go deeper with me?

This space is reader-supported, meaning you help keep the ritual alive.

When you become a paid subscriber, you’re not just supporting my work—you’re stepping into something sacred. A space where we grow, rise, and rebel together.

Here’s what you’ll receive on the inside:

✨ Exclusive subscriber-only content
💬 Access to our creative community + group chat
🔮 100 Days of Devotion
🖤 VIXEN RISING 30 Day Challenge

If this space nourishes you, consider becoming a paid subscriber.
It’s an energetic exchange I don’t take lightly—and I’m so grateful for you choosing to walk this path with me.

Let’s keep building this wild, devoted, soft-power revolution together.

Upgrade to Paid

✨ Not a reader (yet)? Let’s still stay connected...

If this was forwarded to you and you’re vibing with the energy—
🖤 Sign up here to receive future love notes straight to your inbox.

In In the meantime… send this to a woman who’s done playing small.
She deserves the reminder:
You get to live softer, rise rebelliously, and take up every damn inch of your life. 🐆

The Sunday Edition: Vol 18

Amber ✨🤍🌿 — Sun, 21 Dec 2025 22:11:25 GMT

«The Whole Vibe»

Winter is here, loves.

The Winter Solstice marks the true beginning — the shortest day, the longest night.
Darkness.
The womb.
The great inward turn.

Rest isn’t laziness.
Slowing down isn’t failure.
It’s the design.

We were never meant to be going, doing, building, producing, hustling all damn year long. Watch nature. Watch the seasons. Nothing blooms endlessly. Everything retreats so it can live again.

You’ll find me in bed by 6pm most winter nights. Not because I’m boring — but because it’s dark, and darkness invites rest. This season gives us permission to stop. And I am taking it. Fully.

As a woman in her mid-40s who spent decades being everywhere, doing everything, saying yes to every invite, every party, every obligation — I’m done performing through winter. I’m embracing the quiet. I’m choosing the dark.

Don’t invite me out after 5:30pm. It’s a loving no.
I’ll be getting 9+ hours of sleep.
Reading by the fire.
Eating warming foods — soups, stews, slow meals.
Living my best winter life in stillness.

You truly couldn’t pay me to attend another forced, overstimulating Christmas party when everything I want — everything I need — is already here in the quiet of my home.

And here’s the thing no one likes to say out loud:
When you stop the madness, when you strip it all back, when you let winter be winter — what remains is the truth.

This season was never meant to be about excess.
It was meant to be about devotion.
About reflection.
About remembering why light matters at all.

Jesus wasn’t born into chaos.
He was born into darkness — and brought light with him.

That’s the whole vibe.

This is what devotion looks like in winter.

A willingness to stop forcing.
A willingness to trust what’s happening beneath the surface.
A willingness to let God do the work while you rest.

Jesus did not arrive in brightness.
He arrived in darkness.
Quietly.
Humbly.
Without spectacle.

Light is born in stillness.

So let winter be winter.
Let the night be night.
Let yourself rest without guilt.

The light is returning.
It always does.

But first—be still.

»What’s on my Mind«

So much is shifting for me right now.
And I want to name that without dramatizing it or rushing past it.

I was in a dark place for many months. Not because I didn’t know better—but because I was trying to make meaning out of things that simply needed to end. I was holding on because I wanted to be loved. Wanted to be chosen. Wanted to matter. And I was willing to contort myself in ways that weren’t actually safe or aligned to feel that.

That’s the part no one wants to admit.

I’ve looked brutally at my side of the street. My behavior. My patterns. The ways I abandoned myself while asking to be held by someone else. I’m not bypassing that. I’m doing the fucking work. Seeing clearly. Taking responsibility. And most importantly—learning how to forgive myself.

Because shame keeps us stuck longer than grief ever will.

And now—I’m ready to move forward.

I can feel my essence coming back online. Slowly. Gently. A light inside me is returning—not because something external changed, but because I stopped arguing with reality. I’m done spinning on the past. Done over-analyzing what is already complete. I don’t want to waste another season dissecting what’s dead.

I want to live.

Which brings me to the body.
And to health.
And to remembering how we were meant to live.

Our ancestors didn’t optimize themselves to death. They lived in rhythm with the land. They farmed. They foraged. They rested when it was dark. They used the medicine available in each season instead of fighting the season itself.

Winter in New York is cold. It’s dark. That’s not a problem—that’s information.

So we start with light. Morning sun. Yes, even when it’s cold. Especially when it’s cold. Natural light in the eyes sets our circadian rhythm. It tells the body it’s safe to wake up. It supports hormones. It helps with that low-grade seasonal depression so many women carry silently and call “normal.”

I support my body with supplements too—magnesium, vitamin D, saffron—because winter takes more than it gives. I share what works for me because it helps me feel like myself again. No agenda. Just honesty.

I also lean heavily into plant medicine. Teas. Roots. Honey. Elderberry. Iron. These aren’t trends—they’re traditions. This is how women have cared for themselves for generations.

Winter is not the season to push.
It’s the season to tend.

So I’ll ask you the real question:
What have you been avoiding in your body?
What have you been ignoring because slowing down felt inconvenient?

This is the season to sleep more.
To wake slowly.
To eat earlier.
To be home.
To stop running your nervous system into the ground and calling it discipline.

Your life doesn’t change through massive overhauls.
It changes through the smallest daily choices you actually repeat.

How you honor yourself matters.
Not later.
Now.

Because the body will always get your attention eventually—through burnout, illness, exhaustion—if you refuse to listen in the quieter moments.

So start gently.

Slower movement.
Yin yoga.
Long stretches.
Pilates.
Strength training that feels supportive, not punishing.

Start where you are.
With what you’ll actually show up for.

Consistency matters more than intensity—especially in winter.

This is not about becoming someone new.
It’s about coming home to yourself again.

And the light?
It’s already returning.

🔐 Ready to go deeper with me?

This space is reader-supported, meaning you help keep the ritual alive.

When you become a paid subscriber, you’re not just supporting my work—you’re stepping into something sacred. A space where we grow, rise, and rebel together.

Here’s what you’ll receive on the inside:

✨ Exclusive subscriber-only content
💬 Access to our creative community + group chat
🔮 100 Days of Devotion
🖤 VIXEN RISING 30 Day Challenge

If this space nourishes you, consider becoming a paid subscriber.
It’s an energetic exchange I don’t take lightly—and I’m so grateful for you choosing to walk this path with me.

Let’s keep building this wild, devoted, soft-power revolution together.

Upgrade to Paid

✨ Not a reader (yet)? Let’s still stay connected...

If this was forwarded to you and you’re vibing with the energy—
🖤 Sign up here to receive future love notes straight to your inbox.

In In the meantime… send this to a woman who’s done playing small.
She deserves the reminder:
You get to live softer, rise rebelliously, and take up every damn inch of your life. 🐆

The Sunday Edition: Vol 17

Amber ✨🤍🌿 — Sun, 07 Dec 2025 19:43:21 GMT

«The Whole Vibe»

My life has been initiation after initiation.

Addiction → Sobriety
Chaos → Clarity
Survival → Sovereignty
Over giving → Self-devotion
Attachment → Surrender

And honestly?
Every time I walk through another initiation, something in me dies.
It’s a full-body death. An identity death. A “who the hell am I now?” death.
And there’s always that weird in-between period where I don’t feel like myself yet, but I’m also not the girl I was five minutes ago.

I’ve shared a lot of my journey… but I think there are still pieces I protect because they feel like past lives.

I got sober from alcohol in 2017 through a 12-step program that absolutely saved me.
And then in 2022, I tried drinking again.
It was never “the old way,” but something felt off every single time.

And let’s be real:
I don’t drink because I love alcohol.
I drink because I want to change how I feel.

But I’m not available for that anymore.
I’d rather feel the thing.
I’d rather walk through the fire without numbing out.
I’d rather be sober than spiritually disconnected.

So I’m back to no alcohol.
Back to facing myself without a buffer.
Back to being awake for my own life.

2025 has been humbling in a way I didn’t ask for but clearly needed.

Everything I built became too heavy to hold.

The business that looks great from the outside but doesn’t let me take a real vacation without paying for it emotionally.
The lifestyle creep that snuck up on me and stole money I could’ve saved or invested.
The relationship that became a toxic loop until it finally fell apart and I’m left staring at a future that looks nothing like what I planned.

It’s been a lot.
A level of unraveling I can’t sugarcoat.

But this is also how I learn.
I don’t learn softly.
I learn through impact.
Through my own patterns catching up with me.
Through what God removes when I won’t let go on my own.

So December… I’m doing the only thing that actually matters:

I am grounding into safety.

Not the fake safety I’ve chased for years—
more work, more money, more doing, more achieving, more relationships to lean on.

Actual safety.
Internal safety.
Nervous-system safety.

The kind no one else can give me.

And I’m asking myself:

Can I feel safe without a partner holding me?
Can I feel safe rebuilding my finances slowly and steadily?
Can I feel safe letting my business and offerings change?
Can I feel safe when life feels like a blank slate?

Right now everything feels shaky, so I’m treating December like rehab for my whole system.

What that actually looks like:

Sleeping.
Like real sleep.
Going to bed early because it’s dark at 4:30pm and that’s literally nature telling us “sit down.”
Letting myself rest without guilt.

Slow mornings.
Bible open.
Prayer.
Walking the dogs at sunrise.
Moving my body without rushing into work the second my eyes open.

No social media.
I deleted the apps.
The noise is too much.
The scrolling, the comparison, the constant selling… I’m over it.
If it’s not God, if it’s not my real life, if it’s not peace—it’s not getting my attention.

Eating early and honoring the season.
Letting my rhythms match the actual world instead of the online world.

Returning to 12-step meetings.
Not because I’m “struggling,” but because it’s a spiritual home base.
I take what I need and leave the rest.
It works. Period.

Boundaries.
No extra work.
No holiday invites.
No small talk, no pretending, no performing.
December is insane for year-end bookkeeping, and if someone didn’t prepare… that’s their lesson, not mine.

I’m not making other people’s chaos my emergency anymore.

I’m sharing all of this because maybe you’re in your own unraveling.
Maybe your life feels like it’s shaking beneath you.
Maybe you’re tired of holding everything without feeling held.

This is your reminder:

You don’t rebuild by doing more.
You rebuild by becoming safe inside yourself again.

And that’s what December is for.
A soft re-entry into your own body.
A quiet meeting with God.
A month to regulate instead of react.

»What’s on my Mind«

Honestly? How much of my life I built from survival instead of truth.
How many choices I made from urgency instead of desire.
How much I’ve pushed myself past my own capacity because “rest felt unsafe.”

I’m sitting with the fact that everything I thought was solid… wasn’t.
And instead of spiraling, I’m letting it be information.

I’m noticing where I still look for something or someone to hold me when I’m fully capable of holding myself.
I’m noticing how God keeps stripping away anything that dilutes my devotion.
And I’m noticing how much calmer I feel when I stop trying to control outcomes and just let this chapter be what it is.

Right now, I’m not trying to expand.
I’m trying to stabilize.

And that feels like the most grown, God-led thing I’ve done in years.

God has been loud lately.
Not loud as in dramatic… loud as in unmistakably clear.

Slow down.
Stop rushing your own becoming.
Let what’s falling apart, fall.
Come home to Me.

I’m realizing I’ve been gripping too tightly to every area of my life—trying to fix, manage, hold, perform, perfect.
And none of it brought peace.

So what’s on my mind is surrender.
Not passive surrender—holy surrender.
The kind where you stop negotiating with God and start cooperating with where you’re being led.

I don’t know what next year looks like.
I don’t know what my business looks like.
I don’t know what my relationships look like.

But I know this:
If it’s not rooted in peace, safety, and truth, I’m not building it.

So that’s where I’m at this week — stripping everything down to what actually matters and letting the rest fall away without trying to glue it back together.

I don’t have all the answers right now and I’m not pretending I do.
What I do have is awareness.
And clarity.
And the willingness to stop running from the parts of my life that need my attention the most.

December is already teaching me that safety isn’t something I “find.”
It’s something I build.
Brick by brick.
Boundary by boundary.
Breath by breath.
Decision by decision.

This is the month I’m letting my nervous system come back online.
This is the month I’m letting God lead instead of my fear.
This is the month I’m choosing to stop abandoning myself.

If you’re reading this and you’re in your own unraveling or your own winter — you’re not broken, you’re not behind, and you’re not alone.
You’re just being invited into a deeper version of yourself that can’t be accessed through speed or chaos or numbing out.

We’re walking through it together.
Slowly.
Intentionally.
Safely.

See you next week — softer, clearer, and a little more rooted than before.

🔐 Ready to go deeper with me?

This space is reader-supported, meaning you help keep the ritual alive.

When you become a paid subscriber, you’re not just supporting my work—you’re stepping into something sacred. A space where we grow, rise, and rebel together.

Here’s what you’ll receive on the inside:

✨ Exclusive subscriber-only content
💬 Access to our creative community + group chat
🔮 100 Days of Devotion
🖤 VIXEN RISING 30 Day Challenge

If this space nourishes you, consider becoming a paid subscriber.
It’s an energetic exchange I don’t take lightly—and I’m so grateful for you choosing to walk this path with me.

Let’s keep building this wild, devoted, soft-power revolution together.

Upgrade to Paid

✨ Not a reader (yet)? Let’s still stay connected...

If this was forwarded to you and you’re vibing with the energy—
🖤 Sign up here to receive future love notes straight to your inbox.

In In the meantime… send this to a woman who’s done playing small.
She deserves the reminder:
You get to live softer, rise rebelliously, and take up every damn inch of your life. 🐆

The Sunday Edition: Vol 16

Amber ✨🤍🌿 — Sun, 30 Nov 2025 19:43:02 GMT

«The Whole Vibe»

God, guide my steps as I walk into this final month of the year.
Let December be a clearing, a softening, a strengthening.
Let me release what was never mine to hold, and gather what is meant to root me.
Let every choice I make bring me closer to peace, closer to truth, closer to You.
Let this month be holy ground.
Amen.

There is a quiet intelligence in winter that most of us were never taught how to hear.
We were raised on the gospel of production:
Do more. Prove more. Show more. Achieve more.

But winter speaks an entirely different language — a softer one.
A wiser one.

Winter says:
Retreat into what matters.
Warm yourself from the inside.
Let the excess fall away.
Be held, not stretched.

And withdrawal — real, honest withdrawal — isn’t collapse.
It’s conservation.
It’s letting your system find its way back home.

Pulling inward is not weakness.
It’s discernment.
It’s your body remembering a rhythm older than ambition.

Even this week, I caught myself doing what so many women do: rushing the morning before the day even began. Urgency in my shoulders. Tightness in my breath. The old autopilot of go, go, go even when there was nowhere urgent to be.

So I tried something simple:
I slowed the smallest possible thing.

Not the whole day.
Just my inhale.
Just my coffee ritual.
Just my steps from one room to the next.

And it’s wild how quickly the nervous system responds to small slowness.
It doesn’t need a full reset — just a cue.

A reminder that we’re safe.
A reminder that nothing is chasing us.
A reminder that winter is a season of slowing down.

Even With Money…

Even with money, I felt that familiar reflex — the desire to fix, to analyze, to outrun discomfort.

Instead, I did something radically simple:
I just looked.

I didn’t plan.
I didn’t judge.
I didn’t rearrange the universe to make myself feel “on track.”
I paused and witnessed.

And that alone softened my chest.

Awareness is often the most underrated form of regulation.
It turns the body from “threat” to “truth.”
It reminds us that presence is the antidote to panic.

Withdrawal as a Spiritual Practice

This week, I want you to consider withdrawal not as isolation, but as intimacy — with yourself, with God, with what’s real.

Withdrawal is what creates the capacity for clarity.
It’s what allows us to hear our own voice again.
It’s what makes space for the new year — not by force, but by clearing.

Winter doesn’t demand performance.
It invites rest, reflection, and reverence.

And maybe that’s the most rebellious thing a woman can do in a culture of constant output: slow down on purpose.

Where in your life are you still rushing when the season is asking you to slow?
Be honest. Be gentle. Be curious.

Winter isn’t here to punish you — it’s here to protect you.

May this week be a warm inward fold.
A sacred withdrawal.
A reminder that you are allowed to move softly, slowly, and in alignment with the season you’re actually in.

»What’s on my Mind«

Stepping Into December — The Intention

As we step into December, I’m feeling this deep truth:

This is not a month for force.
This is a month for theme, for rhythm, for sacred structure — the kind that brings us back to ourselves.

This month, the way I’m moving through life is guided by a few simple anchors, and if they speak to you, take them with you too:

✨ Slowing Down the System

Less external, more internal.
Less performing, more presence.
Less consumption, more clarity.

✨ Regulating My Energy

Staying off socials.
Saying no to anything that scatters me.
Letting my nervous system thaw, mend, and root again.

✨ Realigning in Real Time

Coming back to devotion —
to the body, to God, to peace, to the simple things.
Not with intensity… but with consistency.

✨ Choosing Peace Over Performance

December is a ritual, not a sprint.
A soft exhale.
A recalibration.
A preparation for the version of ourselves who will walk into 2026 — coherent, grounded, God-led, and deeply supported from within.

»Life Lately«

Life lately has been quiet in a way that feels like medicine.
I’m moving slower, listening more closely, letting God recalibrate what I’ve been too stubborn or too busy to notice. There’s a softness returning—one I didn’t realize I had misplaced.

I’m paying attention to the small things: the way my nervous system exhales when I take a walk, the relief in my body when I say no, the calm that settles in when I check my bank accounts without bracing for impact.

There is something about December that asks for honesty and gentleness at the same time.
It’s not loud.
It’s not performative.
It’s a quiet recalibration.
A remembering.

I’m here for it.
All of it.

«Things I am Loving»

A few simple things making my days feel grounded and good:

• Hot Pilates at Align Yoga Hamptons
My favorite way to sweat, clear my mind, and activate devotion.

• My Daily Rituals & Routines
These little anchors are keeping me sane and sovereign.

• Being Home
There’s nothing like returning to your own space after traveling — everything feels more sacred.

• Staying Hydrated
Simple, obvious, and exactly what my body needs right now.

• My String Bikini
Because sometimes femininity is found in the smallest, most unapologetic details.

«The Black List»

What we’re no longer tolerating, accepting, or carrying forward.

🖤 Over-giving my time, energy, and attention

🖤 Emotional debt — holding onto things that aren’t mine

🖤 Saying “yes” to stay likable instead of honest

🖤 Reactivity with money — no more panic, only presence

🖤 Overstimulated mornings, chaotic days, rushed decisions

«Final Word»

December feels less like a finish line and more like a threshold — a doorway we step through with intention, not urgency. A place to gather what matters and gently release what’s outgrown.

We don’t need to rush this month.
We don’t need to chase clarity.
We don’t need to perform for anyone.

This is the month of devotion over distraction, softness over chaos, presence over pressure.
This is where we let God guide what stays, what goes, and what gets rebuilt.

This is our return —
to rhythm,
to truth,
to quiet power.

Here’s to a December that feels like an exhale into who we’re becoming.

🐆
Amber

🔐 Ready to go deeper with me?

This space is reader-supported, meaning you help keep the ritual alive.

When you become a paid subscriber, you’re not just supporting my work—you’re stepping into something sacred. A space where we grow, rise, and rebel together.

Here’s what you’ll receive on the inside:

✨ Exclusive subscriber-only content
💬 Access to our creative community + group chat
🔮 100 Days of Devotion
🖤 VIXEN RISING 30 Day Challenge

If this space nourishes you, consider becoming a paid subscriber.
It’s an energetic exchange I don’t take lightly—and I’m so grateful for you choosing to walk this path with me.

Let’s keep building this wild, devoted, soft-power revolution together.

Upgrade to Paid

✨ Not a reader (yet)? Let’s still stay connected...

If this was forwarded to you and you’re vibing with the energy—
🖤 Sign up here to receive future love notes straight to your inbox.

In In the meantime… send this to a woman who’s done playing small.
She deserves the reminder:
You get to live softer, rise rebelliously, and take up every damn inch of your life. 🐆

The Sunday Edition: Vol 15

Amber ✨🤍🌿 — Sun, 02 Nov 2025 19:45:22 GMT

«The Whole Vibe»

»What’s on my Mind«

Health Is Sovereignty 🕊️

I recently shared a reel about the few things that have made me healthier and happier in 2025, and I wanted to dive deeper into what I meant.

For me, health stopped being about appointments, prescriptions, and protocols — and started being about peace, intuition, and daily devotion.

No Doctor Visits

I know this triggers people, especially those still caught in the loop of “checkups” and “follow-ups.”
But to me, that cycle is the opposite of health.

Every time I went, it was another test. Another “let’s recheck in six months.” Another procedure that cut deeper without ever asking why my body might be speaking through symptoms in the first place.

No one ever said, “Let’s look at your gut health.”
No one ever asked, “How’s your stress, your sleep, your nervous system?”

So I stopped going. I started learning my body — not fearing it. I started healing through food, nature, movement, minerals, light, and rest. I started trusting my intuition again.

That trust gave me peace.

No Prescriptions or Vaxx

Pills never healed me. They dulled the edges of symptoms without ever touching the root.

I was prescribed anxiety meds at one point, with no mention of the long-term effects or what would happen when I wanted off.

What actually healed me:
🕊️ Cleaning up my diet.
🕊️ Sleeping deeply.
🕊️ No alcohol.
🕊️ Reducing inflammation — physically and emotionally.
🕊️ Moving my body every day.
🕊️ Trusting that my body knows what to do when I create the right environment.

I’m 45, and I’ve lived over a decade without prescriptions or injections. I’m not saying this is the path for everyone — but for me, this has been freedom.

Finding Holistic Wellness

Holistic wellness, for me, is deep self-love in motion.
It’s honoring my mind, body, and soul — and supporting myself through rituals and rhythms that root me in my own nature.

As a woman, I live cyclically.
I track my cycle, I know which phase I’m in, and I give my body what she needs — rest when I’m bleeding, power when I’m ovulating, softness in the luteal phase.

I drink herbal teas.
I take supplements guided by testing from a holistic practitioner.
I nourish myself with whole, unprocessed foods — organic, local, and alive.
I move and sweat several times a week.
I aim for eight hours of sleep each night.
I drink water (well… I try to keep up).

Most importantly, I build my days with flow — not force.
I don’t jam-pack my schedule anymore because I’ve learned that my nervous system can only expand when it feels safe.

Sunrise walks.
Seasonal living.
Being in rhythm with nature, and within myself.

Prioritizing Daily Movement

I’m 45, and honestly, I am the strongest I’ve ever been.

I don’t move my body to lose weight or to shrink myself.
I move to feel powerful, alive, and grounded.

Morning walks on the beach have been one of the most healing rituals of my life this year — the salt air, the light, the rhythm of the waves, the feeling of being awake with the earth.
There’s something sacred about waking with the dawn. It sets the tone for everything that follows. We only get so many sunrises — and I want to see as many as I can.

Hot Pilates twice a week keeps me sweating, releasing, and reconnecting. That’s the movement that feels holy.
It’s prayer through motion — breath meeting heat, surrender meeting strength.

Daily stretching, strength training, and yoga are my ways of checking in with myself.
Feeling my body.
Being in my body.

I have never once regretted getting on my mat.
It’s where I meet myself again — stronger, softer, steadier.

Morning Sun ☀️

Getting morning light on your body and in your eyes is healing.
It’s connecting with the rhythm of the Earth — aligning with God’s creation every single day.

The sun gets a bad rap, but anything in extremes can be toxic. The truth is, the sun is necessary for life. It nourishes us, regulates our hormones, supports our mood, and gives us vitamin D — something we especially need during the darker winter months.

There’s something holy about watching the sun rise over the horizon and remembering:
It’s a new day.
A new chance to show up.
A new opportunity to give your best — whatever that looks like today.

The sun rises no matter what’s happening in your world.

Cutting Off Old Ties

This has been my greatest lesson of 2025.
You can’t force relationships — no matter how much you love someone or how hard you try to make it work.

I spent months caught in a toxic back-and-forth with an ex — extreme highs and lows that we kept calling love. Ten years of history, memories, promises. You tell yourself, this must mean something, but what it really means is that letting go hurts like hell.

Even when you know, deep down, that it doesn’t feel right — you still go back. You hold onto the words, the past, the idea of what it once was. But that isn’t living in reality.

The truth is, we needed to stop the madness. We needed to let go.
It took what it took — but after this last time, I was done.

That final interaction snapped me awake.
I realized I didn’t want the stress, the anxiety, the loss of sleep, or the way my body literally ached from the emotional chaos.

Cutting off those old ties has been the healthiest thing I’ve done for myself this year. It’s not easy — but it’s peaceful.

I’m honoring myself now.
My boundaries.
My values.
My energy.
Finding Jesus ✝️

This one even sounds a little crazy to me — because I’ve never been religious.
I wasn’t open to the idea of God for most of my life.

But lately… something shifted.

I’ve been listening to sermons.
Reading the Bible.
Praying.
Talking to God in my own way.

It doesn’t look “religious.”
It looks like early mornings in silence.
It looks like crying on my yoga mat.
It looks like gratitude, surrender, forgiveness — again and again.

I want to get to know Jesus better and follow His word, because something in my heart says this is the path I’m meant to take.
I can’t explain it.
It just is.

We all find what we need when we need it.
And for most of us, it’s in the darkest nights that Jesus and God finally show up — or maybe, it’s when we finally stop running long enough to notice He’s been there all along.

Travel 🌴

I hadn’t traveled much in recent years — and I didn’t realize how essential getting away is for me until I did.

There’s something about landing in a tropical place, stepping into a new culture, and giving yourself permission to just be that awakens your soul again.

In September, I went to Puerto Rico on retreat with a group of women. It was medicine.
The kind that doesn’t come in a bottle — the kind that comes from laughter, feminine connection, shared meals, and letting your walls down.

Getting dressed up for dinner.
Shaking our asses to music.
Wearing bikinis without self-consciousness.
Eating 12-course meals.
Savoring every bite, every laugh, every late-night conversation.

That trip filled my cup in ways I didn’t know I was empty. It reminded me who I am — and how good life feels when I’m present, open, and connected.

Now, I’m leaving for Bali in five days, and I know this one will be next-level healing.
The Bali vibe is pure magic — lush, sacred, alive.

I can already feel my nervous system softening just thinking about it.
The warmth, the nature, the community, the quiet moments by the water — I know it’s going to reset me from the inside out.

New people.
New energy.
New adventure.

Sometimes healing isn’t about stillness — it’s about movement.
About saying yes to life again.

Peace as Medicine 🤍

What if health isn’t just the absence of illness, but the presence of peace?
What if healing is simply the process of coming home — to your body, your truth, your God?

This is what 2025 has been teaching me:
That true wellness is a full-circle thing — body, mind, soul, and spirit.
And that sovereignty is sacred.

Because when you trust your body, when you clear your space, when you honor your boundaries, when you walk with God —
you stop chasing healing.
You become it.

»Life Lately«

I don’t have much to update this week — just preparing to leave for the rest of November.
I’ve never been away from home this long, let alone by myself and literally across the world.

But here I am.

I’ve been soaking up quiet time with the kids and dogs before I go — long walks, cuddles, slow mornings. There’s a tenderness in the air, like I’m closing one chapter and opening another.

Friday at 1:45 a.m., I board a 15.5-hour flight from JFK to Hong Kong. Then a 3.5-hour layover. Then another 5.5-hour flight to Indonesia.
Hello, melatonin. Hello, airplane movies and unread books.

I’ll land around 3 p.m. Bali time — 3 a.m. back home — and I know it’ll take a few days for my body to adjust, to sync into a whole new rhythm.

I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t nervous.
But underneath that nervousness is something even stronger: faith.

Faith that I can step away and life will keep flowing.
Faith that my business, my clients, my income — everything — can move without me forcing it.
Faith that I’m safe to rest, receive, and be held — even when I’m halfway across the world.

This trip feels like a test of trust.
A soul assignment.
A chance to feel what it’s like to live the way I’ve been teaching — fully surrendered, supported, and alive.

There’s still a little guilt about missing Thanksgiving, but honestly, I haven’t celebrated much in recent years. It’s just another day. Everyone will be doing their own thing, and I’ll be on the other side of the world remembering that life doesn’t have to look traditional to be sacred.

We keep ourselves tethered to these expectations — the “shoulds” and “supposed tos” — and drive ourselves mad over them. But freedom begins when you stop needing everything to look familiar.

So this week, I’ll be packing.
Finishing up client work.
Bringing a few things for my friend over there.

But more than anything, I’ll be preparing my heart — because this is the trip that draws the line in the sand for me.

There’s no going back now.
Not to the old ways, the old pace, or the old version of me.

This is a one-way flight into what’s next.

«Things I am Loving»

Amazon [guilty as charged]
Georgie Energy Drinks
Fall Vibes [food, weather, colors]
Listening to old courses and trainings I have bought over the years
Sacred Sunday’s

«The Black List»

What we’re no longer tolerating, accepting, or carrying forward.

⚔️ Doctor visits that keep me in fear
⚔️ Prescriptions + quick fixes that disconnect me from my body
⚔️ Ignoring my cycle + pushing through my nature
⚔️ Working out to punish or shrink myself
⚔️ Living disconnected from the sun + the seasons
⚔️ Holding on to people who disturb my peace
⚔️ Doubting God’s plan
⚔️ Staying home out of fear instead of exploring the world
⚔️ Believing I have to work nonstop to be worthy

«Final Word»

2025 has been the year I came home to myself.

Not through hustle, not through perfection — but through presence.
Through trusting my body.
Through letting go of what hurt.
Through finding God in the quiet, the movement, the sunlight, and the surrender.

Health stopped being a checklist.
It became devotion.

And this next chapter — boarding that flight, walking into the unknown, fully trusting that I’m held —
this is my proof that healing works.

Because when you live in alignment with your peace,
you don’t chase freedom anymore.
You are it.

🔐 Ready to go deeper with me?

This space is reader-supported, meaning you help keep the ritual alive.

When you become a paid subscriber, you’re not just supporting my work—you’re stepping into something sacred. A space where we grow, rise, and rebel together.

Here’s what you’ll receive on the inside:

✨ Exclusive subscriber-only content
💬 Access to our creative community + group chat
🔮 100 Days of Devotion
🖤 VIXEN RISING 30 Day Challenge

If this space nourishes you, consider becoming a paid subscriber.
It’s an energetic exchange I don’t take lightly—and I’m so grateful for you choosing to walk this path with me.

Let’s keep building this wild, devoted, soft-power revolution together.

Upgrade to Paid

✨ Not a reader (yet)? Let’s still stay connected...

If this was forwarded to you and you’re vibing with the energy—
🖤 Sign up here to receive future love notes straight to your inbox.

In In the meantime… send this to a woman who’s done playing small.
She deserves the reminder:
You get to live softer, rise rebelliously, and take up every damn inch of your life. 🐆

The Sunday Edition: Vol 14

Amber ✨🤍🌿 — Sun, 19 Oct 2025 17:59:34 GMT

«The Whole Vibe»🖤🗝️🐅

»What’s on my Mind«

🐆 45 Lessons from 45 Years 🤍✝️🌴

The beauty in coming undone is that you meet the truest version of yourself.

So much shit, really.
It was my 45th birthday yesterday and I’ve been reflecting on the many lives I’ve lived — the parts of me that had to die so this new me could be revealed. The coming undone. The letting go. The surrender that felt like destruction but was actually resurrection.

And the beauty in all of it?
Here I fucking am.
Living. Loving. Creating.
Still unfolding.

Here are 45 lessons I’ve learned along the way —
each one a piece of my becoming, a prayer in motion, and a rebellion in devotion.

God will strip what’s not rooted in truth. Let Him.
Sobriety was never punishment; it was the portal.
You don’t need closure, you need peace.
Luxury is a nervous system that’s not in fight or flight.
Freedom requires boundaries.
If it costs you your peace, it’s too expensive.
Rest is holy. Hustle is not.
The body remembers everything until you help her release it.
Love isn’t supposed to drain you.
God’s plan is better than your timeline.
You are allowed to outgrow people, jobs, places, and versions of yourself.
Money mirrors your nervous system — regulate before you budget.
Discipline is devotion.
You can’t pray for peace while living in chaos.
Feminine energy isn’t weak; it’s magnetic.
Boundaries are how you say “I love you” to yourself.
Healing doesn’t make you soft, it makes you solid.
The most spiritual thing you can do is take responsibility for your life.
Your calling will cost your comfort.
Don’t fear solitude; it’s where God whispers the loudest.
The way you do money is the way you do everything.
Don’t mistake stillness for stagnation — rest has rhythm.
You can be both divine and deeply human.
Romanticize your healing — make it sacred, make it sensual.
The devil hides in distraction.
Grief is love with nowhere to go.
When you release control, miracles find you.
You don’t chase aligned things; they arrive when you’re aligned.
There’s power in prayer, and even more in obedience.
Your body is your first home — treat her like the temple she is.
Faith is doing the next right thing when you can’t see the way.
Stop explaining your evolution to people still committed to misunderstanding you.
Be the woman who saves herself, not waits to be rescued.
Joy is rebellion in a world addicted to stress.
What you refuse to look at controls you.
Confidence is quiet. Regulation is loud.
Beauty comes from being well, not being watched.
You can’t receive new blessings with clenched fists.
Gratitude shifts timelines.
When God says no, it’s protection, not punishment.
Becoming her requires releasing her — the old you.
You are the answer to your own prayer.
Devotion is sexy.
Being grounded is the new glow-up.
The best is always still unfolding.

»Life Lately«

🐆 “Give it to God and Go to Sleep” 🤍✝️🌴

A 45-year-old lesson in surrender

My son and his girlfriend got me a pillow that says “Give it to God and go to sleep.”
And honestly? That’s been my biggest lesson lately.

To release control.
To stop trying to manipulate outcomes.
To hand it all over to God — and rest in knowing the path will unfold exactly as it’s meant to.

Usually the “next right thing” isn’t complicated.
It’s eating something nourishing.
It’s moving my body.
It’s getting rest.
It’s trusting that peace doesn’t come from control, it comes from faith.

These last few weeks have shown me the magic that happens when you just say “fuck it, God’s got it.”
And things flow.

From losing a client — and not panicking.
To getting a surprise bonus from another.
To having three new inquiries but feeling no pressure to say yes just for the money.
To enjoying the extra space in my week and pouring deeper into the clients I already have.

God keeps showing me:
Let it go.
Don’t force. Don’t chase. Don’t grip.
What’s meant to leave will go.
What’s meant to stay will stay.
And the more I soften, the more I’m shaped into the woman who can hold the kind of love and life I crave.

Because nothing external can soothe internal unrest.
No person, paycheck, or glass of wine will fix the ache that only God can heal.
We all have our vices — food, social media, shopping, TV, relationships, whatever — anything to quiet the noise for a moment.
But it’s not God.
And it won’t last until you learn to face yourself, regulate, and love from within.

So this is where I’m at.
I’m not dating for distraction.
I’m not holding onto people for comfort.
I’m letting myself be uncomfortable — and making it fun.

This era is for side quests, divine detours, and letting God surprise me.
It’s for saying:

“Okay, God. You handle the how.
I’ll just handle the me.”

Because when I take care of myself, things just… work out.
Magically.

«Things I am Loving»

Fast one day per week
Having really sensual and connected sex
More space in my week
Giving it to God
Starting Sweat & Sculpt Classes

«The Black List»

What we’re no longer tolerating, accepting, or carrying forward.

⚔️ Forcing timelines that aren’t God’s.
⚔️ Saying yes when my body whispers “nah.”
⚔️ Needing external validation for inner peace.
⚔️ Chasing what’s leaving instead of receiving what’s meant.
⚔️ Doing things for the aesthetic instead of the alignment.
⚔️ Entertaining anyone who confuses access with entitlement.
⚔️ Mistaking chaos for passion.
⚔️ Thinking I need to “figure it all out” before I move.
⚔️ Pretending my softness isn’t my superpower.
⚔️ Trying to control outcomes instead of cultivating faith.

⚔️ We’re slicing through illusion, surrendering control, and walking in quiet trust.
🐆🤍✝️🌴

«Final Word»

Let it be easy. Let it be divine. Let it unfold without your interference.
You don’t have to chase what’s already written for you — just stay faithful, stay soft, and stay open.

🐆🤍✝️🌴
God’s plan > my panic.

🔐 Ready to go deeper with me?

This space is reader-supported, meaning you help keep the ritual alive.

When you become a paid subscriber, you’re not just supporting my work—you’re stepping into something sacred. A space where we grow, rise, and rebel together.

Here’s what you’ll receive on the inside:

✨ Exclusive subscriber-only content
💬 Access to our creative community + group chat
🔮 100 Days of Devotion
🖤 VIXEN RISING 30 Day Challenge

If this space nourishes you, consider becoming a paid subscriber.
It’s an energetic exchange I don’t take lightly—and I’m so grateful for you choosing to walk this path with me.

Let’s keep building this wild, devoted, soft-power revolution together.

Upgrade to Paid

✨ Not a reader (yet)? Let’s still stay connected...

If this was forwarded to you and you’re vibing with the energy—
🖤 Sign up here to receive future love notes straight to your inbox.

In In the meantime… send this to a woman who’s done playing small.
She deserves the reminder:
You get to live softer, rise rebelliously, and take up every damn inch of your life. 🐆

The Sunday Edition: Vol 13

Amber ✨🤍🌿 — Sun, 12 Oct 2025 21:17:41 GMT

🖤 THE REBELLE MANIFESTO

Devotion is the Revolution

I was never meant to fit inside the system.
Not the corporate one.
Not the pharmaceutical one.
Not the one that told me to silence my intuition and play nice while I quietly died inside.

I refused the mandates.
I lost the six-figure job.
And somehow, when everything was falling apart — it was actually falling into place.

Because rebellion has always been how God reached me.
Through collapse. Through surrender. Through the moments I thought I was losing everything — only to realize I was being led back to myself.

I don’t worship hustle.
I don’t obey fear.
And I don’t let anyone — government, guru, or godless system — tell me what to believe, eat, spend, or feel.

I believe in Devotion over Discipline.
In Faith over Force.
In Regulation over Restriction.
Because when your nervous system is calm, your soul can hear God again.

This is what The Rebelle Way is:
A rebellion against control, and a return to sovereignty.
It’s devotion as daily practice — through prayer, through movement, through money, through mindset.
It’s breaking the generational curses of scarcity, addiction, and self-abandonment — and turning them into altars of freedom, wealth, and peace.

I’m not here to teach you how to “manifest millions.”
I’m here to teach you how to feel rich in your spirit first.
Because when you’re rich in devotion, everything else aligns — your finances, your body, your relationships, your faith.

Rebelle Ritual is where we come home to God and our bodies.
Rebelle Finance is where we reclaim wealth as worship.
Rebelle Fit is where we move like prayer and breathe like freedom.

This is not about perfection — it’s about presence.
It’s about remembering who you are before the world told you who to be.
It’s about living sovereign, soft, strong, and unshakable.

So yes — rebel.
Refuse the control.
But do it with your heart open, your feet grounded, and your eyes on God.

Because rebellion without devotion is chaos.
But rebellion with devotion?
That’s heaven breaking through.

— Amber *Founder of The Rebelle Ritual

Sunday Edition V13 🖤🐅🎧

»What’s on my Mind«

LET’S GET REAL THIS WEEK 💭

I haven’t been in a good place lately.
My life is full of blessings and it’s also been really fucking hard mentally and emotionally.

I haven’t wanted to work on my business.
I’ve been spinning about the past.
I’m releasing a 10-year relationship, unwinding old fucked-up patterns, and honestly… I’ve felt isolated and alone.

When Fall came in, I felt it in my body—like I needed to move differently.
To pour into healthy habits.
To get the fuck back out there… wherever “there” even is.

It’s been hard AF, y’all.
But I keep showing the fuck up for myself because I don’t know any other way to be.

I wake up, I pray, I give thanks.
I move my body.
I try to be a blessing to others, even when I’m the one who feels broken.

And here’s the thing—
There’s nothing wrong with feeling your feelings.
It’s necessary.
But at some point, it’s like we’re just sitting in our own literal shit—it starts to stink.

So here are 5 things I’ve done to shift my motherfucking mood 👇

Get the fuck up and move in the morning.
Preferably outside as the sun rises. There’s something holy about being awake before the world and connecting with God. Give yourself a few mornings—you’ll feel it.
Make a playlist and dance it out.
Be the bad bitch. Get dressed up, dance sexy for yourself, your husband, your dog—whatever. Move your hips and stop caring how it looks. I’ve cried and released so much through dance.
Pray. Hard.
Pray for strength, love, and guidance. Pray for others’ joy—even the fuckers. It feels good to pray for people who have no idea you do. You’re never alone. God is always right there.
Lift heavy.
Strength train. Period. On the days I didn’t want to show up, I did—and that’s when it mattered most. Now I feel it in my body (and so can others 😉).
Get more rest.
Quality sleep is sacred. Don’t call it lazy—it’s restoration.
No screens, no drinking, just tea, reading, and early nights. I’m in bed by 8pm and happy AF about it.

Because the truth is:
Healing isn’t about waiting to feel better.
It’s about showing up differently while you heal.

🖤 You can’t think your way out of a low state—you have to move, pray, rest, and live your way out of it.

»Life Lately«

Things are finally starting to feel better 🤍

My work feels lighter.
My days are more balanced—some self-care, some work, and actual rest.
I’m not pushing myself to do more.
Okay, maybe a little more stretching and getting outside.

I’ve been craving connection lately.
Like-minded women.
The ones who aren’t competing, gossiping, or jealous—just women rooted in their own lives, walking in peace, and doing the work.

I want to meet the ones who love their mornings.
Who grab coffee after Pilates.
Hit the farm stand.
Take a hike.
And are in bed by 8 p.m. because they actually love their lives.
(That’s my kind of wild night now. 😂)

Financially, I’m focused.
You can join me in that inside The Financial Fast—
90 days of devotional money work.
Not bro finance.
Not hustle and spreadsheets.
It’s heart-led stewardship.
Building legacy through self-love and sacred responsibility.

I was approved for a $700k mortgage… and for a minute, I thought maybe that was next.
But right now? I’m not sure I want to be strapped to anything.
I want freedom.
I want to travel, meet people, and live life.
Maybe in a few years I’ll be ready to buy a home—or maybe I’ll move around a bit to see where I want to plant roots.

Truthfully, that part of my life feels a little empty without a partner to build with.
And I’m learning not to pause my life waiting for him.
He’ll find me being me.
Out in the world.
Living.
Laughing.
Trusting God.

Because my life isn’t empty—it’s becoming.
And I know that what’s meant for me will meet me when I’m ready to receive it.

Every day, I’m connecting deeper to God and Jesus.
Reading the Word.
Listening to sermons.
Walking in nature.
Praying.
Releasing control.
Trusting that I don’t have to know what’s next because He already does.

He’s got me.
And maybe that’s the whole point—
to finally believe that’s enough.

🤍

«Things I am Loving»

Feeling a new iteration of my business
Substack
Trusting God
Morning Pages
Earth Spirit Medicine

«The Black List»

What we’re no longer tolerating, accepting, or carrying forward.

⚔️ Forcing ourselves to “figure it all out” instead of letting God reveal what’s next.
⚔️ Friendships built on gossip, comparison, or quiet jealousy; if it’s not love, it’s a no.
⚔️ Hustling through the healing — some days need rest, not productivity.
⚔️ Building a life that looks good online but feels empty in real life.
⚔️ Believing we have to wait for love or partnership before living fully now.
⚔️ Confusing control with safety — faith is the real security.
⚔️ Pretending we’re fine when we’re actually craving connection and softness.
⚔️ Saying yes to what drains when peace and quiet feel like luxury.

«Final Word»

To the woman who’s been doing her best to hold it all together — breathe.

You’re not behind. You’re not broken. You’re being rebuilt.

This season isn’t punishment; it’s preparation. God is pruning what can’t come with you — the chaos, the codependency, the control. It hurts because it’s holy work.

You’re learning to live differently now.
To move slower.
To trust deeper.
To let go of what doesn’t feel like peace — even when it once felt like home.

Keep choosing yourself. Keep choosing God. Keep choosing the quiet, soft life that lets you feel safe again.

Because the woman you’re becoming?
She’s already here — calm, radiant, and ready for what’s next.

🖤

🔐 Ready to go deeper with me?

This space is reader-supported, meaning you help keep the ritual alive.

When you become a paid subscriber, you’re not just supporting my work—you’re stepping into something sacred. A space where we grow, rise, and rebel together.

Here’s what you’ll receive on the inside:

✨ Exclusive subscriber-only content
💬 Access to our creative community + group chat
🔮 100 Days of Devotion
🖤 VIXEN RISING 30 Day Challenge

If this space nourishes you, consider becoming a paid subscriber.
It’s an energetic exchange I don’t take lightly—and I’m so grateful for you choosing to walk this path with me.

Let’s keep building this wild, devoted, soft-power revolution together.

Upgrade to Paid

✨ Not a reader (yet)? Let’s still stay connected...

If this was forwarded to you and you’re vibing with the energy—
🖤 Sign up here to receive future love notes straight to your inbox.

In In the meantime… send this to a woman who’s done playing small.
She deserves the reminder:
You get to live softer, rise rebelliously, and take up every damn inch of your life. 🐆

The Sunday Edition: Vol 12

Amber ✨🤍🌿 — Sun, 28 Sep 2025 16:51:56 GMT

Welcome to the new version of the Rebelle Ritual.

The Sunday Edition. Where I’ll be sharing more things personal, true life, experiences instead of advice column vibes you’ll get to witness my mess as I walk through it with you each week.

The Rebelle Ritual is a reader-supported publication. To receive new posts and support my work, consider becoming a free or paid subscriber.

Subscribe now

» Vibes Playlist « 🖤🎶

»What’s on my Mind«

Welcome back to me. 💋
Puerto Rico gave me everything I didn’t even know I needed—being around beautiful, juicy, powerful women cracked me wide open.

I was stuck. Going back and forth with an ex. Entertaining men who had no business in my vortex. I’m over it.

Love shouldn’t feel like war. It shouldn’t drain you, confuse you, or keep you looping in chaos. I’m ready for peace. For expansion. For me.

I see now where I was outsourcing my worth. Where I wanted to be chosen instead of choosing myself. That’s done.

Can I sit in the dark of loneliness without running? Can I hold myself, honor myself, meet my own needs without expecting someone else to soothe the emptiness? That’s the real question. That’s the work.

And if I want a man with integrity, depth, wellness, devotion—am I embodying that? Am I living in integrity? Am I honoring my body, my values, my spirit? Because I can’t demand from another what I don’t give to myself.

I know now my last relationship was a trauma bond. And while there are threads still tangled, every day I feel them loosening as I root into myself.

It’s easy to run to the next thing. But the truth is, you can’t run from YOU. You have to meet your own insides, hold them, honor them.

So for now—I’m the love of my own life. 🖤

»Life Lately«

It’s official. Autumn is here. 🍁
My favorite season. The sun still glorious, the air crisp, the days calm as nature prepares for harvest.

Fall always brings me back to myself. After the long, buzzing days of summer, it’s time to slow down, reset, and choose what nourishes me—inside and out.

The collective is loud right now. Politics. Rage. War. Patriarchy. Feminism. Religion. Who the fuck is even listening anymore? We’re drowning in noise. And that noise creates fear, division, and disconnection.

The only sane move in an insane world is to come back to God within, to your own soul, and protect your peace at all costs.

Turn off the TV. Put down your phone. Get outside. Be with your family. Cook nourishing meals. Rest. Because no one can control a woman who is sovereign, healthy, and grounded.

For me, that looks like…
✨ Cleaning and clearing my home
✨ Returning to movement, nutrition, and rest
✨ Grounding into financial order after months of travel
✨ Prepping for my sabbatical in Bali this November—yoga, slower living, and seeing what else I’ll discover within

And to support this season of grounding, I’m launching my paid series: Financial Fast.
A detox for your money. A chance to cut $100 of expenses, save $100, and pay off $100 of debt every month. Because if you can’t manage $100, you’ll never manage $1,000.

This fall is about nervous system regulation, clarity, coziness, and expansion. I’ve let go of so much I was holding onto. My hands are open now, ready to receive what’s truly mine.

🍂 Life feels good. I feel good. Expansive. Clear. At peace.

«Things I am Loving»

Coco & Eve tanning foam
More time off social media
Setting 3 priorities for the day and not overscheduling
Looking for dream homes all over the US
Setting into a routine for Fall

«The Black List»

What we’re no longer tolerating, accepting, or carrying forward this week:

🖤 Men who don’t belong in our vortex, who feed off chaos instead of peace.
🖤 Trauma bonds disguised as love.
🖤 Outsourcing our worth to someone else choosing us.
🖤 The collective noise—politics, rage, war, division—that fractures our own clarity.
🖤 Living distracted, glued to screens, scrolling instead of being.
🖤 A messy home, a messy mind, and finances left unchecked.
🖤 Believing comfort in the past is safer than expansion in the now.

«Final Word»

The truth is—peace is the flex.
Not the drama, not the chaos, not the noise of the world screaming at you to react.

When you choose yourself, when you root into God, when you regulate your nervous system and get your shit in order—your home, your body, your finances—you become untouchable.

The past has nothing left for you. The distractions can’t hold you. The noise doesn’t matter.

Stay sovereign. Stay grounded. Stay devoted.
Because what’s meant for you will never fucking miss you. 🖤

🖤 Amber

🔐 Ready to go deeper with me?

This space is reader-supported, meaning you help keep the ritual alive.

When you become a paid subscriber, you’re not just supporting my work—you’re stepping into something sacred. A space where we grow, rise, and rebel together.

Here’s what you’ll receive on the inside:

✨ Exclusive subscriber-only content
💬 Access to our creative community + group chat
🔮 100 Days of Devotion
🖤 VIXEN RISING 30 Day Challenge

If this space nourishes you, consider becoming a paid subscriber.
It’s an energetic exchange I don’t take lightly—and I’m so grateful for you choosing to walk this path with me.

Let’s keep building this wild, devoted, soft-power revolution together.

Upgrade to Paid

✨ Not a reader (yet)? Let’s still stay connected...

If this was forwarded to you and you’re vibing with the energy—
🖤 Sign up here to receive future love notes straight to your inbox.

In In the meantime… send this to a woman who’s done playing small.
She deserves the reminder:
You get to live softer, rise rebelliously, and take up every damn inch of your life. 🐆

The Sunday Edition: Vol 11

Amber ✨🤍🌿 — Sun, 14 Sep 2025 22:18:49 GMT

Welcome to the new version of the Rebelle Ritual.

The Sunday Edition. Where I’ll be sharing more things personal, true life, experiences instead of advice column vibes you’ll get to witness my mess as I walk through it with you each week.

The Rebelle Ritual is a reader-supported publication. To receive new posts and support my work, consider becoming a free or paid subscriber.

Subscribe now

» Sunday V11 « 🖤🎶

»What’s on my Mind«

This week is for the women building empires while dismantling the parts of themselves they had to contort just to survive in the old systems.

We’ve been told that success requires sacrifice, that burnout is a badge of honor, that pushing harder means we’re worthy. But the truth is: your nervous system, your body, your pleasure, and your peace are not expendable.

We’re rewriting what business looks like—anchoring in feminine structure that creates flow, not force. Systems that sustain your energy instead of draining it. Boundaries that honor your humanity, not just your productivity.

Business isn’t about performing for a broken model anymore. It’s about building wealth, freedom, and impact in a way that actually feels good to live inside of.

This week, you’ll root into the practices that recover you from burnout, while laying down foundations that honor both your ambition and your softness.

Day 1: Audit the Hustle
Notice where you’re still running on survival. What parts of your work feel forced, draining, or tied to proving your worth? Write them down. Awareness is the first cut in dismantling old systems.

Day 2: Nervous System Wealth
Your nervous system is your true bottom line. Devote 20 minutes to pure regulation—breathwork, yin yoga, shaking, or lying flat in silence. No strategy will ever be more important than this.

Day 3: Feminine Structure Mapping
Map your week around your energy, cycle, and desires—not just deadlines. Ask: Where do I want more space? Where do I actually thrive in structure? Create a skeleton that breathes instead of cages.

Day 4: Rewrite Productivity
Instead of doing more, choose the 1–3 needle-moving actions today. Burnout is death by a thousand “shoulds.” Liberation is choosing the few that matter most.

Day 5: Pleasure as Strategy
Before emails, calls, or content—touch, taste, or move in a way that turns you on. Feminine business is built from a regulated, turned-on body. Pleasure becomes your productivity hack.

Day 6: Boundary Reset
Where are you leaking time, money, or energy? Write down three boundaries you’re reclaiming. Say them out loud. Anchor them in your body. Watch how your business shifts when you hold the line.

Day 7: Soft Power Integration
Close the week by asking: How can I lead softer and still command more? Journal on the balance between impact and intimacy, strength and surrender. Feminine structure is not weak—it’s sustainable.

»Life Lately«

🖤 Anchored in What’s Real

I’ve spent too much time yearning for what isn’t here—fantasizing, replaying, waiting.
That’s not where life is lived.

Life is here:
with my son, his girlfriend, the puppies, and family visiting for a few weeks.
It’s the love that already exists. The arms that are already around me.
If something (or someone) is meant for me, it won’t miss me. I trust that.

Lately, my devotion has gone deeper into health—body and soul.
I completed Caroline Girvan’s EPIC I, now moving into her IRON series with friends. My body feels strong. My massage therapist even said it’s more toned than last time. That’s devotion paying off.

I hired a coach for fitness and nutrition because accountability is power. No more “all in / all out.” This is lifestyle. This is priority.

But it’s not just body—it’s prayer and meditation too.
Because the collective is heavy. The news is chaos. The world feels like spiritual warfare. And the only way to not get dragged into the matrix is to stay connected—to God, to Source, to my own breath.
Prayer is power. It moves through you into others—sometimes even those who will never know you whispered their name.

I’ve been taking social media breaks, staying in my own energy. Protecting my focus. Guarding my boundaries. Making sure everything I do—even laundry—is done with love and reverence for my life.

The truth is, things are settling in.
I see how much I was chasing external validation, especially from men. And I’m not available for that anymore. If it doesn’t give me vitality, it doesn’t belong.

I don’t chase. I attract.
And what I’m attracting now is more strength, more devotion, more peace.

2025 is my year of radical commitment—
Mind. Body. Soul.

«Things I am Loving»

Morning Prayers
Caroline Girvan Workouts
Honoring myself + God
Drinking 100oz of water with Electrolytes
Loki, because he’s the best-est [my sons dog who loves me the most]

«The Black List»

What we’re no longer tolerating, accepting, or carrying forward this week:

🖤 Burnout as a badge of honor
🖤 Hustling for validation
🖤 Building systems that suffocate us
🖤 Saying yes when our bodies scream no
🖤 Leaking time, money, and energy to things that don’t return it

«Final Word»

Your business isn’t just a machine. It’s a body, a rhythm, a living thing that breathes with you.
Feminine structure doesn’t weaken you—it stabilizes you.
Burnout isn’t the cost of success—it’s a sign the old way was never meant to hold you.

This is where you rebuild on your own terms.

🖤 Amber

🔐 Ready to go deeper with me?

This space is reader-supported, meaning you help keep the ritual alive.

When you become a paid subscriber, you’re not just supporting my work—you’re stepping into something sacred. A space where we grow, rise, and rebel together.

Here’s what you’ll receive on the inside:

✨ Exclusive subscriber-only content
💬 Access to our creative community + group chat
🔮 100 Days of Devotion
🖤 VIXEN RISING 30 Day Challenge

If this space nourishes you, consider becoming a paid subscriber.
It’s an energetic exchange I don’t take lightly—and I’m so grateful for you choosing to walk this path with me.

Let’s keep building this wild, devoted, soft-power revolution together.

Upgrade to Paid

✨ Not a reader (yet)? Let’s still stay connected...

If this was forwarded to you and you’re vibing with the energy—
🖤 Sign up here to receive future love notes straight to your inbox.

In In the meantime… send this to a woman who’s done playing small.
She deserves the reminder:
You get to live softer, rise rebelliously, and take up every damn inch of your life. 🐆

The Sunday Edition: Vol 10

Amber ✨🤍🌿 — Sun, 07 Sep 2025 20:35:16 GMT

Welcome to the new version of the Rebelle Ritual.

The Sunday Edition. Where I’ll be sharing more things personal, true life, experiences instead of advice column vibes you’ll get to witness my mess as I walk through it with you each week.

The Rebelle Ritual is a reader-supported publication. To receive new posts and support my work, consider becoming a free or paid subscriber.

Subscribe now

» Sunday Vibes « 🖤🎶

»What’s on my Mind«

Week 5 of The Taboo Series

Health & wellness is a fucking hot + taboo topic.

We don’t usually start from a place of true health—we start with the mirror. We start with wanting a certain result, a certain look. A flat stomach, a tighter ass, a glow that screams “I’ve got it together.” We’re not chasing health, we’re chasing an aesthetic.

And don’t get me wrong—there’s nothing wrong with wanting to look sexy as fuck naked (hello, who doesn’t?). Desire can be a beautiful motivator. But when health becomes obsession and control, when it becomes punishment… that’s where shit gets twisted.

I’ve seen so many horrible “wellness” tactics dressed up as healthy:

Starving yourself in the name of discipline.
Throwing back a dozen supplements your MLM-bestie swears by, without ever testing what your body actually needs.
Chugging 1000oz of plain water, not realizing hydration is about minerals, balance, and what works for you.
Overworking out until your nervous system is fried, then wondering why you can’t sleep or stop craving sugar.
Going “all in” with the all-or-nothing attitude, only to crash and burn after the first week.

Let’s be real—we’ve all played around with these fads.

Here’s the thing: sustainable wellness isn’t found in obsession. It’s found in the small, simple, sensual moments of your day.

The way you eat a meal slowly, with presence.
The way you move your body because it feels good, not because you’re punishing yourself.
The way you rest, restore, and actually listen.

It’s never just about what you eat or how hard you train. It’s about how you digest, how you detox, how you sleep, how you manage stress, how you soften.

True health is devotion. Not rigidity. Not control. Not another rulebook.

This week, we’re not here to “fix” our bodies.
We’re here to meet them again—with reverence.

✧ Reflection Questions

Take these into your journal, your walk, or your bath. Let them pull you deeper into what health feels like when it’s reverence, not rigidity:

Where am I still punishing my body in the name of “health”?
What would it look like to meet my body with devotion instead of discipline?
What are the simple signals my body gives me every day that I’ve been ignoring?
When was the last time I felt truly alive in my body—not just controlled?

✧ Weekly Practice: Sensual Devotion

Every day this week, pick one small ritual to honor your body—not because you “should,” but because it feels like love.

Examples:

Eating one meal slowly and with full attention.
Taking a walk barefoot in the grass, feeling each step.
Stretching in the morning while breathing into every curve of your body.
Going to bed early and letting sleep be medicine.
Lighting a candle, rubbing oil on your skin, and touching yourself with reverence.

Notice how different it feels when the act is devotion, not discipline. That’s the shift.

»Life Lately«

I’ve spent the last month stabilizing my routines, my emotions, and closing out the loops of push-and-pull from the past. Right now, I’m devoted to rest & recovery. Which means eight hours of sleep, non-negotiable, and saying no to anything that would disrupt it.

We don’t realize just how fucking tired we are—how much rest we actually need. Once I started honoring that, I’ve been waking up feeling amazing.

My self-care game has gone next level: oil pulling for gum health, gua sha because I want a snatched neck and chin (told you, I love the aesthetics), oiling and massaging my body head to toe… yes, even yoni massage. I was honestly shocked when I learned most women never touch their own pussies. Like, what the fuck? That tissue needs self-care too. That’s devotion. That’s reverence. And let’s be honest—you get some nice sensation out of it too. Winning. (For those asking, I’m using this Chandra Soma body oil and I’m obsessed.)

Next weekend I’m heading to Puerto Rico for a girls’ trip and I can’t fucking wait. Surrounded by delusional, gorgeous women—decked out, dressed to the nines, eating luxury meals, staying in a mansion, dripping in top-tier feminine energy. Yes, please.

But here’s the real shift: I’ve been keeping my fucking word to myself. Routines. Boundaries. Rest. And it’s subtle—change doesn’t come from doing it all, it comes from integrity. Gratitude comes so easy when you’re living in alignment. Doing less is the vibe.

I don’t work weekends anymore, and it feels blissful. The work gets done during the week and guess what? No one gives a fuck.

Life feels like it’s falling into place instead of me forcing it. I’m in the void, where things feel uncertain, uncomfortable, and full of mystery—but also where the future is born. Clearing the past. Releasing old patterns. Letting go of people I still love but can’t take with me. It’s not easy, but I trust that the best is yet to come.

I’ve also finally stopped fighting my own rhythms. I can’t plan six months out—it’s not me. My energy is in the now. What I’m creating, writing, sharing, is all in real-time. That’s where my magic is. And instead of forcing myself into someone else’s box, I’m letting that be enough.

This season is celibate for me. Not because I don’t love sex—I do—but because sometimes it drains me. I’m coming back into my own body, my breath, my own touch. Feeling myself deeper. That’s the work right now.

On the practical side, I’m locking in on meal prep and protein goals because food is where I fuck with my own progress. Starting with breakfast: 40g of protein, non-negotiable. Then lunch and dinner with the same. It’s more food than I’m used to, so it’s a work in progress, but that one shift already feels like momentum. You don’t have to do it all at once. Just nail one thing, then move to the next.

September, for me, is about my own fucking radiance. And I’m here to soak it all in.

Thank you for being here.

«Things I am Loving»

Watermelon & Cottage Cheese & Hot Honey
Saving Money, watching my accounts stack
Rainy Sundays to write & rest
Saying no to shit and not feeling bad about it
Cuddling with the puppies because it settles our nervous system

«The Black List»

What we’re no longer tolerating, accepting, or carrying forward this week:

🖤 Punishing our bodies in the name of “wellness”
🖤 Overworking, over-supplementing, over-anything
🖤 Starving ourselves and calling it discipline
🖤 Living on plain water and ignoring true hydration
🖤 Saying yes to shit that steals our sleep
🖤 Weekends full of work when bliss comes from rest
🖤 Forcing ourselves into boxes that don’t fit our rhythm
🖤 Sex or relationships that drain instead of nourish
🖤 Chasing aesthetics while ignoring devotion

«Final Word»

Health isn’t about how much you can starve, sweat, or sacrifice. That’s just another cage dressed up as discipline.

Real health is reverence. It’s rest when the world tells you to hustle. It’s feeding your body because you fucking love her, not because you’re trying to shrink her. It’s touching yourself because it feels good, not because some wellness guru told you to add it to your routine.

Stop fixing. Stop punishing. Stop outsourcing your power.

Your body isn’t a problem to solve—she’s the whole damn point.

🖤 Amber

🔐 Ready to go deeper with me?

This space is reader-supported, meaning you help keep the ritual alive.

When you become a paid subscriber, you’re not just supporting my work—you’re stepping into something sacred. A space where we grow, rise, and rebel together.

Here’s what you’ll receive on the inside:

✨ Exclusive subscriber-only content
💬 Access to our creative community + group chat
🔮 100 Days of Devotion
🖤 VIXEN RISING 30 Day Challenge

If this space nourishes you, consider becoming a paid subscriber.
It’s an energetic exchange I don’t take lightly—and I’m so grateful for you choosing to walk this path with me.

Let’s keep building this wild, devoted, soft-power revolution together.

Upgrade to Paid

✨ Not a reader (yet)? Let’s still stay connected...

If this was forwarded to you and you’re vibing with the energy—
🖤 Sign up here to receive future love notes straight to your inbox.

In In the meantime… send this to a woman who’s done playing small.
She deserves the reminder:
You get to live softer, rise rebelliously, and take up every damn inch of your life. 🐆

The Sunday Edition: Vol 9

Amber ✨🤍🌿 — Mon, 25 Aug 2025 12:38:13 GMT

Welcome to the new version of the Rebelle Ritual.

The Sunday Edition. Where I’ll be sharing more things personal, true life, experiences instead of advice column vibes you’ll get to witness my mess as I walk through it with you each week.

The Rebelle Ritual is a reader-supported publication. To receive new posts and support my work, consider becoming a free or paid subscriber.

Subscribe now

» Freedom Sunday « 🖤🎶💝

»What’s on my Mind«

Week 4 of The Taboo Series

Freedom.

It sounds sexy, right?
No rules. No limits. No alarms. No boss.
The wide-open life we think we’re chasing.

But here’s the truth—freedom without grounding doesn’t feel like freedom.
It feels like chaos.
It feels like a freeze response disguised as possibility.
It feels like standing in front of a thousand open doors and being paralyzed instead of liberated.

I’ve chased freedom in a lot of ways.
Freedom from relationships that felt suffocating.
Freedom from jobs that demanded too much of me.
Freedom from debt, from rules, from the feeling of being trapped.

But here’s what I’ve learned:
You can be “free” on paper and still feel locked up inside.
And you can live with structure and still feel wildly, deliciously liberated.

Because freedom isn’t about doing whatever the fuck you want all the time.
Freedom is about knowing what actually frees you.

For me, freedom looks like:

🕊 Time to move my body every day
🕊 Having money in the bank so I can choose instead of settle
🕊 Creating work that aligns with who I am instead of wearing a mask
🕊 The ability to travel and taste life in new places
🕊 Slow mornings without pressure
🕊 Saying no without guilt, and yes without fear

It’s not about infinite choices.
It’s about aligned choices.

Most women I know confuse freedom with escape.
They want out—out of the marriage, out of the job, out of the town, out of the bills.
But if you don’t know yourself, you’ll just recreate the same prison in a new location.

Real freedom is nervous-system rooted.
It’s not about “no rules”—it’s about building the kind of structure that actually supports your expansion.

Think of it like a river.
Water with no banks is just a flood.
But water flowing between strong banks?
That’s power. That’s movement. That’s life.

🔎 Freedom Self-Check

Physical: Do I feel free in my body, or do I treat it like a cage?
Emotional: Do I give myself permission to feel everything, or do I restrict myself to “acceptable” emotions?
Energetic: Do I say yes because I want to, or because I’m afraid of what will happen if I say no?

This week’s invitation:
Notice where you confuse “escape” with true freedom.
Notice where you’ve been running from something instead of building something.
Ask yourself: What actually makes me feel free?

Because freedom isn’t about burning it all down.
It’s about building the kind of life that feels so aligned, you never want to run from it again.

🖤 Amber

»Life Lately«

Each day is starting to feel lighter.

I’ve been spending time at the beach as the summer winds down, riding out to Montauk, and walking the dogs daily. Keeping it simple. Coming back to myself through small rituals and slowing down.

My focus for the rest of August is to stabilize. To root into my routine. To come back to my body.

Because the truth is—I let myself spin out.

High sensation emotions.
Sleepless nights.
Skipping meals.
Living in fight-or-flight.

And I realized: this is just a pattern. A loop I’ve been in before. And if I want to shift how I’m feeling, I have to come back to my body. Ground. Slow down. Feel it instead of distracting myself from it.

Healing isn’t linear.

One day you wake up and you feel lighter.
The next day, the grief or sadness comes back.

But the difference now is—I can sit with it. I know it’s not permanent.

So I’ve been doing small things that root me:

🌙 Going to bed early with tea
☀️ Waking up at the same time each morning
🧘‍♀️ Moving through daily rituals and reflection

It feels good to return to myself.

A big part of my reflection lately has been around relationships—who I was, how I showed up, and who I want to be going forward.

It’s painful to look back and see where I was closed off, where I fumbled love, where I hurt people.

I used to point the finger everywhere else. But now? It’s about asking:

💔 Where was this on me too?
💔 What patterns do I need to stop repeating?
💔 How do I become the woman who can love in the way I desire?

This work isn’t easy. It asks you to feel pain most people will do anything to avoid.
But for me, it’s worth it. Because I know the reward is a new experience of love—one that’s deeper, safer, and more intimate.

And in lighter news… I booked my 3-week trip to Bali. 🌺

I’ve been putting it off, worried about how clients would take it. But finally I said: fuck it. I’m living my life now.

The tickets are booked. Twenty-four hours of travel. Three weeks on the other side of the world. Alone but not alone. Excited and terrified.

I need to find a villa (if you know a gorgeous boho chic place—send me the link). I’ve got a friend there looking with me, and I’ve been browsing Airbnb.

Honestly, I was nervous hitting “purchase.”
Three weeks away from my comfort zone, just me and time and space.

But the truth is—each day I get more excited. Each day I feel more gratitude that I can even take a trip like this.

I’ll work a little while I’m there, but mostly I want to:

🧘‍♀️ Do yoga daily
🏊 Swim and move my body
☀️ Soak up sun and connection
💌 Meet new people
🕊 And take space for myself I never normally allow

This feels like a turning point.

The last week of August is here—and it’s coming in hot.

🖤 Amber

«Things I am Loving»

Wild Yam Cream
Fresh Morning Juices
Hitting 100g of protein daily [Farmers Protein]
New linen sheets
Driving with the sunroof open in the sunshine and blasting my playlists

«The Black List»

What we’re no longer tolerating, accepting, or carrying forward this week:

🖤 Confusing escape with freedom
🖤 Flooding ourselves with choices instead of making aligned ones
🖤 Staying in freeze mode while calling it “possibility”
🖤 Living without structure and wondering why we feel lost
🖤 Saying yes out of fear and obligation instead of desire
🖤 Believing freedom means burning it all down instead of building what feels right

«Final Word»

Freedom isn’t about no rules.
It’s about the right rules.
The ones that let you breathe deeper, move freer, live wider.

Escape is a reaction.
Freedom is a creation.

So stop running.
Start building.
And remember: the banks don’t trap the river—
they give it power.

🖤 Amber

🔐 Ready to go deeper with me?

This space is reader-supported, meaning you help keep the ritual alive.

When you become a paid subscriber, you’re not just supporting my work—you’re stepping into something sacred. A space where we grow, rise, and rebel together.

Here’s what you’ll receive on the inside:

✨ Exclusive subscriber-only content
💬 Access to our creative community + group chat
🔮 100 Days of Devotion
🖤 VIXEN RISING 30 Day Challenge

If this space nourishes you, consider becoming a paid subscriber.
It’s an energetic exchange I don’t take lightly—and I’m so grateful for you choosing to walk this path with me.

Let’s keep building this wild, devoted, soft-power revolution together.

Upgrade to Paid

✨ Not a reader (yet)? Let’s still stay connected...

If this was forwarded to you and you’re vibing with the energy—
🖤 Sign up here to receive future love notes straight to your inbox.

In In the meantime… send this to a woman who’s done playing small.
She deserves the reminder:
You get to live softer, rise rebelliously, and take up every damn inch of your life. 🐆

The Sunday Edition: Vol 8

Amber ✨🤍🌿 — Sun, 17 Aug 2025 23:49:01 GMT

Welcome to the new version of the Rebelle Ritual.

The Sunday Edition. Where I’ll be sharing more things personal, true life, experiences instead of advice column vibes you’ll get to witness my mess as I walk through it with you each week.

The Rebelle Ritual is a reader-supported publication. To receive new posts and support my work, consider becoming a free or paid subscriber.

Subscribe now

» Sexy Sunday « 🖤🎶💝

»What’s on my Mind«

Week 3 of The Taboo Series

Intimacy.

Most people think it means taking your clothes off.
But real intimacy? It starts long before that.

Because sex can be just sex.
Bodies touching, needs being met, boxes checked.
But without intimacy—without letting someone see you—there’s always something missing.

True intimacy is baring it all to someone without removing a single piece of clothing.
It’s telling them your fears, your desires, your insecurities.
It’s letting them into the places you’ve tried to keep hidden—even from yourself.
It’s showing your soul, not just your skin.

Honestly? I’m so tired of surface-level relationships.
Ones that look good from the outside but are hollow on the inside.

I want to know someone’s darkest parts.
Their dreams, their fears.
I want to be connected in ways that sex alone can’t reach.

Because when sex is rooted in true intimacy, it hits different.
It can be tender and loving, or dark and primal—but what makes it sacred is that you’re with someone who knows you deeply. Someone who wants you in ways that go beyond your body.

That’s the kind of connection that melts you.
That holds you.
That sets you free.

Intimacy isn’t always fireworks. Sometimes it’s subtle.
It’s knowing exactly how your lover takes their coffee.
It’s making choices with them in mind because they’ve become part of you.
It’s existing together in a way that feels natural, safe, inevitable.

I’ve only experienced that once—the kind of intimacy where even the dark parts were welcomed, where we understood each other fully, where it was safe to just be.

And I think that’s what most people are craving when they search for love.
But they don’t know how to open.
They don’t know how to be vulnerable.
They’re too afraid of being misunderstood, rejected, or abandoned.

For me, this is part of my own softening era.
Letting myself be seen instead of performing.
Allowing space for real connection, not just staying busy so I don’t have to feel the ache of loneliness.
It’s risky.
It’s uncomfortable.
But it’s real.

🔎 Intimacy Self-Check

If you want to know where you stand with intimacy right now, ask yourself:

Physical: Do I feel safe and at home in my own body—and do I let someone else really see me in it?

Emotional: Do I share how I really feel, even when it’s messy or might not land perfectly?

Energetic: Do I allow myself to be felt, received, and supported—or do I keep a wall up, staying in control?

This week’s invitation:
Notice where you self-abandon to keep things “safe.”
Where you perform instead of open.
Where you stay busy instead of letting yourself be seen.

Because intimacy isn’t about stripping down—it’s about softening down.
And letting yourself be loved in the places you were convinced were unlovable.

🖤 Amber

»Life Lately«

Still on the rollercoaster. Relationships, business, my own sanity—it’s been a ride.

Since June, I’ve been in this back-and-forth spiral with a man I spent 8 years with. He’s the one I experienced the deepest intimacy with, but also the one where so much didn’t work. For some reason, we stay connected. We keep circling back to attachment, to fantasy.

But the truth? There’s too much space between us now. We’re holding on to something that isn’t really there anymore.

Breakups, letting go—it’s brutal. The thought loops, the replaying, the “what ifs,” the self-blame on repeat. It’s like your brain gets stuck while your body begs for rest. That’s where I am. My energy has been tied up in these loops, making it hard to show up for my life the way I want to.

But I see it clearly now. I’m breaking the pattern. Because at the end of the day, the loops are just self-torture. And I’ve made a commitment to myself to stabilize.

No more chasing the high of chaos—fighting, loving hard, crashing down. No more sleepless nights on top of a body already wired from trauma. I’m choosing rest. Peace. Recovery.

When the “what ifs” creep in, I breathe. I tell myself: I am safe right here, right now. Then I move—walk the dogs, cook, stretch, do a task. Redirect the energy.

I’m eating again (goodbye breakup diet), going to bed early, waking up early, taking beach days, saying no to overcommitting, finding joy in the mundane. Stabilizing.

Because I realized what I was missing wasn’t the man—it was the feeling of intimacy. And intimacy isn’t the same as intensity. Intimacy grounds you. Intensity drains you.

So I’m choosing me. Choosing stability. Choosing the quiet that feels like withdrawal at first, but is actually the medicine.

«Things I am Loving»

Beach days/Evenings
Buying food on Sunday to meal prep
My Whoop; free month with my link HERE
My daily planner Quarterly Pack HERE
Having a group of women that fucking hold me in times like these

«The Black List»

What we’re no longer tolerating, accepting, or carrying forward this week:

🖤 Surface-level relationships that look good but feel empty
🖤 Performing love instead of letting ourselves be loved
🖤 Staying busy so we don’t have to feel the ache of loneliness
🖤 Self-abandoning to keep things “safe” or avoid conflict
🖤 Hiding our fears, desires, and messiness out of fear of rejection
🖤 Settling for sex without intimacy, touch without presence, bodies without connection

«Final Word»

Real intimacy isn’t about undressing your body.
It’s about undressing your soul.

The risk isn’t being touched.
The risk is being seen.
And most of us are starving for it.

Stop performing.
Stop hiding.
Stop busying yourself out of your own truth.

Let yourself soften.
Let yourself be loved in the places you swore were unlovable.
That’s where intimacy begins.

🖤 Amber

🔐 Ready to go deeper with me?

This space is reader-supported, meaning you help keep the ritual alive.

When you become a paid subscriber, you’re not just supporting my work—you’re stepping into something sacred. A space where we grow, rise, and rebel together.

Here’s what you’ll receive on the inside:

✨ Exclusive subscriber-only content
💬 Access to our creative community + group chat
🔮 100 Days of Devotion
🖤 VIXEN RISING 30 Day Challenge

If this space nourishes you, consider becoming a paid subscriber.
It’s an energetic exchange I don’t take lightly—and I’m so grateful for you choosing to walk this path with me.

Let’s keep building this wild, devoted, soft-power revolution together.

Upgrade to Paid

✨ Not a reader (yet)? Let’s still stay connected...

If this was forwarded to you and you’re vibing with the energy—
🖤 Sign up here to receive future love notes straight to your inbox.

In In the meantime… send this to a woman who’s done playing small.
She deserves the reminder:
You get to live softer, rise rebelliously, and take up every damn inch of your life. 🐆

The Sunday Edition: Vol 7

Amber ✨🤍🌿 — Sun, 10 Aug 2025 20:10:40 GMT

Welcome to the new version of the Rebelle Ritual.

The Sunday Edition. Where I’ll be sharing more things personal, true life, experiences instead of advice column vibes you’ll get to witness my mess as I walk through it with you each week.

The Rebelle Ritual is a reader-supported publication. To receive new posts and support my work, consider becoming a free or paid subscriber.

Subscribe now

» Sexy Sunday « 🖤🎶💝

»What’s on my Mind«

Sex.
Another taboo people either whisper about or avoid altogether.

It’s the same vibe as money—no one’s really asking for what they want, they’re just accepting the bare fucking minimum.

Anyone can rub your back and give you three chump pumps. But sexual energy?
It’s not even about the act itself.
It’s the current underneath it.
The pulse you feel in your body when life lights you up.
The way your skin wakes up when something excites you.
The inner throb of aliveness.

Sexual energy is creation energy.
It’s yours first—before it ever touches someone else.
You get to cultivate it. Play with it. Share it. Direct it.

But here’s the thing… most of us were never taught to own it.
We were taught to outsource it.

We put our pleasure in someone else’s hands—usually a man—and wait for him to “turn us on.”
We measure our satisfaction by what he does to us instead of what we bring with us.

We bite our tongues instead of saying, “Slower. Harder. More like this.”
We pretend it’s fine because we’re afraid he’ll feel inadequate.
We fawn—yes, even in bed—because our nervous systems have been trained to prioritize his ego over our body’s truth.

Here’s the truth:
We are the muse. We are the turn-on.

Your sexual power is not dependent on someone else’s skill—it’s anchored in your presence.
When you’re turned on by your own life, your own energy, your own body… every touch is amplified.
Every connection is electric.

That’s why a blowjob given from obligation feels like a chore—but one given when you’re genuinely aroused is a gift.
It’s not just the act—it’s the energy you’re radiating.
It’s you loving what you’re doing because you’re lit up, too.

Reclaiming your erotic template means:

Listening to your body’s yes/no/more/less without apology
Noticing when you dissociate during intimacy—and bringing yourself back
Releasing the “performance” and letting your arousal be for you first
Letting your sexual energy spill into how you walk, talk, work, and create
Asking for what you want, knowing it’s not too much

This week’s invitation:
Before you even think about the next sexual encounter with someone else—turn yourself on first.
Do something that lights up your whole body—dance, touch, move, wear something that makes you feel dangerous and delicious.
Let that be your starting point.

Because when you stop outsourcing your pleasure…
You stop settling for the bare minimum.
And you remember—
You are the heat.
You are the power.
You are the turn-on.

🖤 Amber

»Life Lately«

Coming back to myself. Over and over.
Some days I think that’s the entire work of my life.

I’m convinced I’m not meant to be in a relationship right now.
Not because I’ve sworn them off forever, but because the relationship I need to be in is the one I keep skipping past—
The one with myself.

There’s a wound that still haunts me.
That quiet ache of feeling unworthy or unloved.
It slips into my choices, my habits, my avoidance patterns.

I fill my calendar so I don’t have to feel it.
I stay busy so I don’t have to rehash the discomfort.
I chase validation so I can bypass the hollow spaces.

But intimacy—real intimacy—doesn’t let you run forever.
It asks you to stop.
To be still.
To face yourself in the quiet.

Lately, I’ve been choosing connection with my girlfriends over chasing connection with men.
Because ever since I was a teenager, I’ve been hooked on male attention like it was oxygen.
But right now? I need the kind of connection that grounds me, not the kind that keeps me spinning.

I need the kind of intimacy that isn’t about being wanted, but about being seen.
The kind that holds me accountable.
The kind that says:
"I see you, even when you’re not performing for it."

The truth is—
I’ve been running so hard with clients and busywork that I haven’t had the time (or space) to sit with myself.
To ask:
What do I really fucking want?

Because if I don’t know, I’ll keep outsourcing that answer to men, to clients, to family, to friends.

Here’s what I do know:
I want to be the woman who is in her body.
Who holds love without leaking it for scraps of attention.
Who can walk through the hard shit without abandoning herself.
Who values her time and energy like they’re sacred currency.
Who uses her sexual energy as creation fuel, not a bargaining chip.

And to be her? I need boundaries.
I need consistency.
I need to do what I say I want—without the constant loopholes.

That means getting back into my workouts (yes, even after skipping for a week).
That means weaving spiritual practice, body love, and rest into my daily rhythm.
That means slowing my scroll, because—good lord—these devices can eat entire hours of my life if I let them.

Things are settling here at home.
My son and the dogs have taken over my old office, and I’ve turned my spare room into a yoga + office sanctuary.
It’s quieter. Lighter.
It feels like space for me to remember who I am when I’m not performing for connection.

And maybe that’s the real risk of intimacy—
That once you taste the truth of it, you can’t go back to the surface-level version again.

🖤 Amber

«Things I am Loving»

Freshly washed sheets on Sunday
Peach Cobbler, it’s peach season 🍑
Paying off my debt, each month I get $1,000 closer to being debt free
Dreaming of where I’m going to travel to next
Writing this newsletter 📰

«The Black List»

What we’re no longer tolerating, accepting, or carrying forward this week:

🖤 Fawning in bed to protect someone else’s ego while abandoning our own body
🖤 Accepting the bare minimum and calling it intimacy
🖤 Outsourcing our pleasure instead of cultivating it ourselves
🖤 Staying silent about what we want out of fear of rejection
🖤 Confusing sexual performance with true erotic embodiment
🖤 Believing our arousal is dependent on someone else’s skill or validation

«Final Word»

Your sexual energy is yours before it’s anyone else’s.
It’s not what’s done to you—it’s what comes through you.

Stop waiting to be lit up.
Turn yourself on.
Walk into every room—every bed—as the source, not the recipient.

You are the muse.
You are the heat.
You are the turn-on.

🖤 Amber

🔐 Ready to go deeper with me?

This space is reader-supported, meaning you help keep the ritual alive.

When you become a paid subscriber, you’re not just supporting my work—you’re stepping into something sacred. A space where we grow, rise, and rebel together.

Here’s what you’ll receive on the inside:

✨ Exclusive subscriber-only content
💬 Access to our creative community + group chat
🔮 100 Days of Devotion
🖤 VIXEN RISING 30 Day Challenge

If this space nourishes you, consider becoming a paid subscriber.
It’s an energetic exchange I don’t take lightly—and I’m so grateful for you choosing to walk this path with me.

Let’s keep building this wild, devoted, soft-power revolution together.

Upgrade to Paid

✨ Not a reader (yet)? Let’s still stay connected...

If this was forwarded to you and you’re vibing with the energy—
🖤 Sign up here to receive future love notes straight to your inbox.

In In the meantime… send this to a woman who’s done playing small.
She deserves the reminder:
You get to live softer, rise rebelliously, and take up every damn inch of your life. 🐆

The Sunday Edition: Vol 6

Amber ✨🤍🌿 — Sun, 03 Aug 2025 19:10:00 GMT

Welcome to the new version of the Rebelle Ritual.

The Sunday Edition. Where I’ll be sharing more things personal, true life, experiences instead of advice column vibes you’ll get to witness my mess as I walk through it with you each week.

The Rebelle Ritual is a reader-supported publication. To receive new posts and support my work, consider becoming a free or paid subscriber.

Subscribe now

» Lawyers, Guns, and Money « 🖤🎶💝

»What’s on my Mind«

Money.
That’s what.

We act like it’s just paper. Just numbers. Just “energy.”
But let’s be honest—everything we do runs through the lens of money.

The cost of staying.
The cost of leaving.
The cost of waiting.
The cost of doing nothing.

Even love—yes, even that—is built on safety.
And safety, for most of us, has a dollar sign attached to it.

💔 41% of marriages end because of financial insecurity.
💥 Most couples argue about money constantly.
🧠 And most people don’t realize that money stress hijacks the nervous system faster than anything else.

But the thing is—it’s never really about the money.

It’s about security.
It’s about freedom.
It’s about the ability to make better choices.
It’s about having enough space in your day and your brain to love your people well.

So what is money, really?

For me, money is how I create my version of luxury.
And luxury doesn’t mean gold-plated bullshit.
It means:

✨ Slow mornings
✨ Driving something that feels good to be in
✨ Investing instead of constantly reacting
✨ Traveling without anxiety
✨ Eating what I want, where I want, without asking my bank account for permission
✨ Letting go of what’s not aligned without panicking about the invoice
✨ Weekly bodywork
✨ Long walks
✨ Deep breaths
✨ Space

It’s not about the most—it’s about the most aligned.

I used to think it was all the things.
The big, flashy, “I made it” moments.

But now?
Now I want fewer things, better quality, and no more 'I can’t afford that' energy.

If I want it, I’ll figure it out.
Because we all have the free will to choose what we prioritize.

I’m not saying I could buy a million-dollar house tomorrow—
But I will buy a home that feels like me. One that allows me to keep living my luxury life.
That, to me, is wealth.

And full transparency?

Right now I’m cleaning up a financial mess I made when I wasn’t being honest with myself.

I dropped $10K on a luxury trip, photo shoot, and website…
Because a coach told me to “invest in myself.”
Because past-me thought the aesthetic would fix what only aligned action could heal.

Present-me?
She’s paying that shit off.

Extra clients, extra hours, extra honesty.
No spiritual bypassing. No pretending debt doesn’t matter.

It sucks. It feels heavy. And I’m not gonna lie—I’m pissed at old me sometimes.
But every payment brings me closer.
Every transfer is a love note to my future.

And no, I’m not swiping for the dopamine anymore.
No more impulse buys.
No more “I’ll deal with it later.”

This is what real financial intimacy looks like.

Not the perfect budget spreadsheet.
Not the passive income fantasy.
But being in honest relationship with your money.
Being clear on what matters.
Being willing to clean up the mess, even if you made it.

And yes, I’m a bookkeeper.
And yes, I’ve had my own money stories, my own delusions, my own financial self-abandonment.

But I’m owning it.
And that? That’s where everything changes.

Everything has a cost.
Sometimes it’s dollars.
Sometimes it’s your peace, your freedom, or your future.

I’m choosing to pay the cost now so I can stop paying in regret later.

🖤 Amber

Let’s get one thing straight:
Money is not neutral.
Not for women.
Not in this system.
Not with the history we carry.

We’re told to be responsible with it, but not obsessed.
To be ambitious, but not greedy.
To want “enough,” but never too much.
To “trust the Universe,” but also pay our rent on time.

We’re taught to feel shame if we have none, and shame if we have too much.
We’re told not to talk about it. Not to ask for more.
Not to need it.
Not to love it.

But guess what?

Money is one of the most intimate relationships you’ll ever have.

It touches every part of your life—
Your sense of safety.
Your ability to rest.
Your capacity to love.
Your options. Your choices. Your freedom.

It’s not about being materialistic.
It’s about being resourced enough to live in integrity with what you value.

Here’s what I’ve learned:

🖤 The more honest I get about my money, the less chaos I create with it.
🖤 The more secure I feel in my bank account, the softer I am in my body.
🖤 The more I track it, the more empowered I feel—no matter how messy the numbers look.
🖤 The more I take radical responsibility, the less I loop in shame.

And here's what most people miss:

It’s not really about the money.

It’s about:

— The feeling of control or power you didn’t have as a child
— The relationships you saw that were ruled by money (or destroyed by it)
— The way your nervous system has learned to associate money with panic, pressure, or overworking
— The shame you feel for not “doing better”
— The fear that if you slow down, the money stops
— The stories you inherited that you never consented to believe

Money is never just a number.
It’s a mirror.
A measuring stick.
A language.
A trigger.
A seducer.
A test.

So what does financial intimacy actually look like?

💌 Knowing what’s coming in and going out
💌 Paying yourself—yes, even before you’re “ready”
💌 Unhooking your worth from your income
💌 Making choices that align with your real version of luxury
💌 Telling yourself the truth about what you actually want
💌 Letting money support you, not control you

I’m still paying off debt.
I still have moments where I question my worth.
I still have to pause and check in before I make a big decision.

But I’m not hiding from it anymore.
I’m not blaming past me—I'm just cleaning up after her.
And every dollar I move with intention feels like a reclamation.

This week’s invitation:
Look at the relationship.
Not the balance.
Not the budget.
Not the bullshit story that says “you should’ve known better.”

Look at the relationship you have with money.
Because like any relationship—it can be toxic, codependent, avoidant, controlling…
Or honest, safe, reciprocal, and loving.

You choose.

»Life Lately«

A new month. A refined mood.
Clean lines. Clear energy. Quiet power.

This month, I’m choosing:

– Unrushed travel
– Subtle movement
– Soft structure
– Light-filled spaces
– Elegant work rituals
– Sensual presence
– Getting paid to simply be

Nothing loud. Nothing forced.
Just aligned action and elevated ease.
I am the woman who gets paid to exist.

Getting adjusted to the kids being here.
It’s sweet. Full. A little chaotic.
In many ways, I love it.
And I also miss the quiet rhythm of my own space.

But this is just a moment in time.
And I’m learning to be with what is—
not wishing, not resisting, just receiving.

The truth?
It’s exhausting to always want something else.
To chase. Hustle. Reach.
What if this is enough?
What if I can hold desire and be at peace with now?

💫
A deeper shift is unfolding—
I’ve reconnected with someone I love.
And I’m over the moon.

The softness, the joy, the trips, the conversations,
the “we’re figuring this out together” energy.
It’s giving home.

I used to think I needed someone else.
That maybe this love wasn’t it.
But after stepping back into the dating matrix?
No. Most men can't hold me. Won’t even try.
They want to be chased. They want to feel bigger than me.
But I’m done shrinking.

This man—
he held me before the money,
during the climb,
and now, still.
That’s rare. That’s real. That’s everything.

We’ve both grown.
And now… we know.
It’s us. Big plans, big love.

💫
Also—
Nutrition. It’s time.

I eat clean ish, but I snack too much.
44 and the belly doesn’t lie.
My man might be good with it (LOL),
but for me, it’s about health. Vitality. Longevity.
And yes, I want to show the fuck up for him too.

Simple strategy:
— More protein
— Less sugar
— Ancestral foods
— In-season produce
— Local meat from small farms

Sustainable. Sexy. Aligned.

💫
Work? I’m revamping the whole rhythm.
Front-loading my month.
Clearing space for life to be lived:
sun, sand, dogs, slow mornings, long walks.

Trips are coming—
Florida at the end of the month to see my love.
Making memories. Breathing it in.

💫
This first week of August is for clearing—
Soft resets.
Decluttering.
Letting go of anything that doesn’t support the woman I’m becoming.

Your space should feel like a sanctuary.
Not storage.

So we release.
Soft. Simple. Spacious.

That’s it.
That’s the energy.
Simple. And fucking good.

«Things I am Loving»

Wearing flowy dresses
This weather 78* and low humidity
Golden Milk in the evening HERE
Morning Pages - Writing 3 pages of freehand each morning [The Artists Way]
Setting my iPhone color to monotone. Love it!

✨ How to Customize Your iPhone Home Screen with Tinted/Monotone Vibe

1. Hold your Home Screen

Tap and hold an empty space on your home screen until the icons jiggle.

2. Tap “Edit” or the Dots at the Bottom

Tap the page dots above your dock, or long-press until the option to “Edit” or “Customize” appears.

3. Tap “Customize” under the Lock Screen

This brings you to your Lock Screen customization.
Here you’ll see your Lock Screens and their paired Home Screen options.

4. Tap “Customize” under Home Screen

Choose a solid color, gradient, or blurred wallpaper that matches your mood.

5. Select “Color” and Tap the Palette

You’ll see a color grid—tap the circle in the top-left for custom colors.
Slide the color picker into neutral tones (think soft beige, muted black, warm taupe).
Adjust the intensity slider to create that tinted or washed-out monochrome effect.

6. Tap “Done” to Save

«The Black List»

What we’re no longer tolerating, accepting, or carrying forward this week:

🖤 Wanting life to be different instead of being with what is
🖤 Shrinking to be digestible for men who can't hold us
🖤 Hustling for “better” when peace is already available
🖤 Emotional chaos from clutter—physical or mental
🖤 Snacking mindlessly and calling it self-care
🖤 Pretending you’re fine when your body is asking for more
🖤 Men who need you to play small so they can feel big
🖤 Wasted space—on your calendar, in your kitchen, in your heart
🖤 Dating “potential” instead of choosing the one who already shows up
🖤 Making your body the villain instead of your vessel

«Final Word»

You don’t need a new life.
You need to soften into the one you’ve built.

Let it hold you.
Let love meet you.
Let your body be well-fed, well-f*cked, well-rested.

Clear the noise.
Choose what’s essential.
Romanticize what’s real.

Because when you stop chasing what you think you need,
you start receiving what’s actually yours.

This week: simplify, feel good, stay grounded in what is.
You’re already in the life you used to dream about.
Live it like it’s sacred. Because it is.

🖤 Amber

🔐 Ready to go deeper with me?

This space is reader-supported, meaning you help keep the ritual alive.

When you become a paid subscriber, you’re not just supporting my work—you’re stepping into something sacred. A space where we grow, rise, and rebel together.

Here’s what you’ll receive on the inside:

✨ Exclusive subscriber-only content
💬 Access to our creative community + group chat
🔮 100 Days of Devotion
🖤 VIXEN RISING 30 Day Challenge

If this space nourishes you, consider becoming a paid subscriber.
It’s an energetic exchange I don’t take lightly—and I’m so grateful for you choosing to walk this path with me.

Let’s keep building this wild, devoted, soft-power revolution together.

Upgrade to Paid

✨ Not a reader (yet)? Let’s still stay connected...

If this was forwarded to you and you’re vibing with the energy—
🖤 Sign up here to receive future love notes straight to your inbox.

In In the meantime… send this to a woman who’s done playing small.
She deserves the reminder:
You get to live softer, rise rebelliously, and take up every damn inch of your life. 🐆

The Sunday Edition: Vol 5

Amber ✨🤍🌿 — Sun, 27 Jul 2025 20:25:28 GMT

Welcome to the new version of the Rebelle Ritual.

The Sunday Edition. Where I’ll be sharing more things personal, true life, experiences instead of advice column vibes you’ll get to witness my mess as I walk through it with you each week.

The Rebelle Ritual is a reader-supported publication. To receive new posts and support my work, consider becoming a free or paid subscriber.

Subscribe now

» Sunday Edition Playlist « 🖤🎶💝

»What’s on my Mind«

We don’t go crazy from doing too much.
We go crazy from not telling the truth about what we really want.

Here’s what’s really been circling me lately.
The real shit. The tender shit.
The shit that makes us feel wild, alive, ashamed, lit up, burned out, turned on, and low-key haunted.

Money.
Sex.
Intimacy.
Freedom.
Health.
Business.

These are the taboos we don’t talk about honestly—yet they drive everything.
Our decisions. Our fears. Our desires. Our shame spirals. Our secret dreams.
They’re also the places where most of us feel the most dysregulated, the most disconnected from our truth.

And here’s the part that breaks me open—
This isn’t about fixing ourselves.
It’s about seeing the truth underneath the stories.
It’s about choosing sovereignty over silence.
Pleasure over performance.
Power over perfection.

These six?
They’re the lineup that both seduces and haunts us.
The untouchables.
The ones we’re told to keep quiet about, manage privately, never want too much of, never need too loudly.

And yet—
They’re the exact areas that shape the entire quality of our lives.

🖤 Money: you’re not supposed to love it, but god forbid you don’t have it.
🖤 Sex: sacred and primal, but still wrapped in shame, performance, and “shoulds.”
🖤 Intimacy: so many of us crave it but run the other direction when it gets too real.
🖤 Freedom: deeply desired, but often feared once we get a taste of it.
🖤 Health: marketed to us as control and perfection, instead of vitality and connection.
🖤 Business: praised when it’s polished, punished when it’s messy, emotional, or led by instinct.

It’s no wonder women feel like we’re going insane trying to “do life right.”

Because let’s be clear:
The real juice of living is in these exact realms—
The messy, tender, powerful places that get policed the most.

And here’s what I believe:
Most women aren’t confused.
We’re just exhausted.
Exhausted from gaslighting ourselves around the very things we know we crave.

We’ve been told to calm down, be quiet, be less intense.
But what if your intensity is sacred?
What if the places you’ve been told are “too much” are actually your deepest entry points to sovereignty?

This isn’t about being perfect.
It’s about telling the truth.

To yourself.
To your body.
To your bank account.
To your partner (or the ghost of the one who never really showed up).
To the part of you that is so done pretending this is fine.

The Taboo Six.
The ones that carry the most power—and the most shame.
The ones we secretly crave mastery over, while pretending they don’t run our entire emotional ecosystem.

And yes—I’ve lived in all of them.

I’ve been the over-giver.
The under-earner.
The woman who starved herself of intimacy while acting like she had it all together.
I’ve built businesses that looked perfect on the outside but chewed through my soul on the inside.
I’ve chased “freedom” while drowning in decisions.
I’ve weaponized health as control and tried to fix my body instead of listen to it.
I’ve used sex to self-abandon, then spent years learning how to come home to it.

So no—I’m not here for surface-level content.
I’m not offering hacks or tricks.
I’m not trying to optimize a life that was never built for women like us to thrive in.

I’m here for the truth.

The messy, sacred, sweat-drenched, voice-shaking, nervous-system-rooted truth.

And that’s where this next chapter begins.

Starting this week, I’m writing a 6-part series—each Sunday, one taboo.
Not to fix you.
Not to shame you.
But to hand you the permission slip to feel again.

To let your wild, chaotic, sovereign self come all the way back online.

Because if you’ve ever felt haunted by the question,
"Why can’t I just get this part of my life together?"
You’re not broken.

You’re just ready to stop lying to yourself.

And that? That’s where your power begins.

🖤 Amber

»Life Lately«

Well, my life changed basically overnight.
My 25-year-old son, his girlfriend, and their three dogs moved in with me.
So there goes my peace and quiet. LOL.

Yes—I’m grateful.
Grateful I can help. Grateful they have a safe place to land.
But also? It’s been a huge adjustment for someone who’s lived alone for the past year, deeply devoted to slow mornings, quiet rituals, and choosing her own frequency.

And listen—
I did tell God I was lonely.
But I was thinking more along the lines of tall, dark, and emotionally available…
Not three dogs and someone else’s laundry in my sacred space.

So yeah. Be careful what you pray for. And maybe be a little more specific next time.

The new flow around here?

🐾 Morning dog walks
👖 Getting dressed before leaving my room
🧠 Remembering that we live together, but we’re not fused together

They have their life.
And I still have mine.
Boundaries, baby.
Even when the kitchen is shared and the couch is occupied.

But underneath all the adjusting and reorganizing, a deeper whisper is rising in me:

Where am I headed?

The truth is, I’m not sure I want to stay here.

The Hamptons are beautiful. They raised me, held me, shaped me.
But as prices rise and tourism eats away at the magic, the wildness, the nature—
I find myself wondering if this is still my place.

And maybe that’s the point.

Here’s what I’m dreaming about lately:

🏕 Waking up in a camper on the beach in Key West
🛶 Sitting under the stars in the wild Alaskan plains
🌴 Wandering Bali for a few months
🌊 Letting Hawaii hold me for a while
🌿 Road-tripping through national parks
🛤 Reclaiming the freedom I’ve always craved

The longer I stay still, the more I feel stuck.
And I know that when “home” stops feeling like home, it’s time to make a move.
Not in a rush. Not in avoidance.
But in truth.

To do that, I need a few things:

✨ A vision
✨ A truck + camper (hello, Pinterest board)
✨ And money that supports the dream—not just the bills

So this week, I’m sitting down with my finances to look at the whole picture.
I’ve been chipping away at debt, and now I want to see just how quickly I can clear it out.
Because that’s step one: clean financial foundation.

Then the rest can take shape.

Maybe I’ll start with shorter trips.
Visit friends. Breathe in new places.
Let the road remind me who I am.

But for today?
I’m slowing down.
It’s raining.
I’m headed to the farm stand.
I’m taking my one day off to chill the fuck out.

Because change is coming.
But first—rest.

🖤 Amber

«Things I am Loving»

Brianna Wiest Books
The house being vacuumed daily with 3 dogs
Honesty, even when it hurts we get to choose from the truth and not lies
Slow relaxing Sunday’s
Gut Building Herbs from Organic Oliva HERE

«The Black List»

What we’re no longer tolerating, accepting, or carrying forward this week:

🖤 Feeling guilty for needing space in your own damn home
🖤 Praying vague prayers and being shocked when the Universe delivers chaos
🖤 Shrinking your dreams to match your current circumstances
🖤 Mistaking comfort for alignment
🖤 Believing you have to “figure it all out” before you take the first step
🖤 Delaying joy until your debt is gone and your finances are perfect
🖤 Telling yourself the version of freedom you want is too much, too late, or too far

«Final Word»

The things we’re told to quiet down about—
money, sex, intimacy, freedom, health, business—
are the very things that hold our deepest power.

They seduce us.
They haunt us.
They shape the entire texture of our lives.

So if you feel a little unhinged trying to “do life right,”
you’re not broken.
You’re just brushing up against the places they taught you to silence.
The places where your wild begins.
Where your real life waits.

Let them haunt you.
Let them wake you up.
Let them matter again.

🖤 Amber

🔐 Ready to go deeper with me?

This space is reader-supported, meaning you help keep the ritual alive.

When you become a paid subscriber, you’re not just supporting my work—you’re stepping into something sacred. A space where we grow, rise, and rebel together.

Here’s what you’ll receive on the inside:

✨ Exclusive subscriber-only content
💬 Access to our creative community + group chat
🔮 100 Days of Devotion
🖤 VIXEN RISING 30 Day Challenge

If this space nourishes you, consider becoming a paid subscriber.
It’s an energetic exchange I don’t take lightly—and I’m so grateful for you choosing to walk this path with me.

Let’s keep building this wild, devoted, soft-power revolution together.

Upgrade to Paid

✨ Not a reader (yet)? Let’s still stay connected...

If this was forwarded to you and you’re vibing with the energy—
🖤 Sign up here to receive future love notes straight to your inbox.

In In the meantime… send this to a woman who’s done playing small.
She deserves the reminder:
You get to live softer, rise rebelliously, and take up every damn inch of your life. 🐆

The Sunday Edition: Vol 4

Amber ✨🤍🌿 — Sun, 20 Jul 2025 20:31:47 GMT

There is something so magical in the mundane.

Welcome to the new version of the Rebelle Ritual.

The Sunday Edition. Where I’ll be sharing more things personal, true life, experiences instead of advice column vibes you’ll get to witness my mess as I walk through it with you each week.

The Rebelle Ritual is a reader-supported publication. To receive new posts and support my work, consider becoming a free or paid subscriber.

Subscribe now

» Sunday Edition Playlist « 🖤🎶💝

»What’s on my Mind«

We’re all so damn afraid of slowing down.

Of not having somewhere to be, someone to impress, something to do every hour of the day. We’ve been taught that stillness is lazy. That rest is weakness. That feeling too deeply is a distraction.

“Just go. Do. Hustle. Perform. Get it all in—so you can finally have it all.”

But I’ve learned, in the most soul-cracking way, that having it all is a lie if you’re not in your life while it’s happening.

It’s not in the hustle. It’s in the slow Sunday morning, in bed with your book and a hot coffee.
It’s in walking into the sunrise barefoot, or staying wrapped in your lover’s arms for an extra hour.
It’s in feeling your own body and breath before you roll into the next task or to-do or performance.

The magic was always in the moments I was rushing past.

And now? At 44, I’m clear as hell on what I want.
How I want my life to feel.

I spent decades chasing men, chasing money, chasing the thing they said would make it all click—the ring, the house, the 6-figure business, the body, the dream.

But first you have to earn it, right?
Be productive. Be chosen. Be “the good girl.”
Dull your edges. Make it easy for him. Make it easy for everyone else.

I played the part. I had it all.

And still…
There was a God-sized hole in my chest.

I missed real moments with my son because I was too busy surviving. I was either building a life or trying to prove I was worthy of one.

I chased the man, thinking a family would soothe the ache.
Spoiler alert: it didn’t. It only shattered me further.
I chased the money—$20K/month, and I still longed for the simple things.

I don’t want more. I want slower.
I want mornings where I can say “fuck it” to everyone’s demands and take care of myself, my puppies, my home.
I want a life that begins with sunrise and ends in the arms of someone I love.

I want to cook, to rest, to be.

I’m not saying I don’t work hard. I do. But it’s different now.
The priority is no longer appeasing clients who expect me to self-abandon.
The vibe now? Sacred boundaries. Nervous system peace. Luxurious presence.

It’s uncomfortable sometimes—to say “this no longer fits in my day.”
But I refuse to betray myself for a paycheck or to keep the peace.

Because this slow, intentional life I’m building?
It takes work.

It’s daily trips to the farmers market. It’s paying more for food that was grown with care. It’s knowing exactly what’s going into my body. It’s cooking, cleaning, walking, moving, making love, being present. It’s feeling the pulse of nature, my own breath, my man’s hand on my lower back in the morning.

And you know what?
No amount of money can replace that.

Money helps, yes. But without peace, love, and presence?
It’s just expensive chaos.

You don’t really get this until you’ve lived it. Until you’ve tried it all and still felt empty.

So go ahead. Be bored. Be slow. Be soft.
Make love at 11am. Walk barefoot to the mailbox. Lay under the sun. Touch the sky.

Because this is what it means to have it all.

»Life Lately«

My life feels like a fucking movie lately.
Not the polished, rom-com kind. More like a moody indie film—equal parts chaotic, sensual, heart-wrenching, and holy. And some days? I swear I’m just watching it from the backseat, hands off the wheel, eyes wide open.

Some scenes make me laugh, others gut me.
But God—God—I’m glad I feel it all.

I don’t numb.
I don’t sugarcoat.
I’ll make you squirm when I need you to meet me.
I’ll cry. I’ll collapse. I’ll ask for support.
And I’ll rise the next damn day as a bad bitch in red lipstick.

It all depends on which week you catch me.

I used to think I was CrAzY for riding these waves.
But now? I call it being a woman.
It’s the mystery, the rhythm, the bleeding, the aching to be held and devoured, the sacred rage, the softest love, the spine of steel.

We’re not here to be palatable anymore.
We’re not here to pop pills that mute our wild nature just to be digestible to men.
We’re not little men.
We’re cosmic chaos wrapped in silk and shadow.

And the world is going to have to catch the fuck up.

Lately, I’ve felt it all at once:

— Love with an ex that still lingers
— Money playing hide and seek
— My son moving back in… with three dogs
— Loneliness crawling up beside me at night
— Realizing I’ve been offering my whole heart to someone who simply can’t hold it

And still—I’m grateful.

Because every single thing is a mirror.
Every single twist in this plotline is a portal.
It’s not just my story—it’s my healing, and the healing of every woman who comes after me.

Some days I can feel the past unraveling while the future softly unfolds.
And I don’t have to grip it anymore.
I just let it be.

This chapter? It’s not about control.
It’s about presence.
It’s about softening.
It’s about loving deeper without abandoning myself.
It’s about crying when I need to, raging when I must, resting when I want, and loving all of it.

I’m planning trips. Big ones.
I’m paying off debt so I can taste the world with clean hands and open eyes.
I’m not announcing the itinerary yet—I’m savoring the suspense.

So yeah… life gets to be messy and breathtaking and uncertain and holy all at the same damn time.

And I wouldn’t trade a single scene.

«Things I am Loving»

Yoga. Stretching. Seriously the slowness and moving my body in this way is so Divine. It really connects me to self and source.
My START planner. I use the quarterly undated version. I following a seasonal mapping process. You can check out the process in my first Issue below.
Glass storage containers. I do not do plastic for my food, for water bottles etc… I also have glass 5 gal water bottles delivered from Mountain Valley. It’s fucking LUXE and I love it.
Sweet Water Decor candles. They are a whole vibe. Check them out HERE.

«The Black List»

What we’re no longer tolerating, accepting, or carrying forward this week:

🖤 Shutting down our bodies to make others more comfortable
🖤 Hustling for worth, love, or validation
🖤 Being the whole damn meal for someone who can’t even hold a crumb of our truth
🖤 Muting our wild, cyclical, mysterious nature to “stay sane”
🖤 Performing productivity over presence
🖤 Sacrificing slow mornings, sensual nights, and soul-nourishing pauses for busy work
🖤 Feeling crazy for being a woman who feels it all
🖤 Ignoring the mirrors—every messy, beautiful one of them
🖤 Abandoning ourselves in the name of peacekeeping
🖤 Believing that having “it all” matters more than actually living it

«Final Word»

To the woman who feels like too much, too tender, too wild, too inconsistent—

You are not broken.

You are just awake.

There is nothing wrong with the way you move through this world—full-hearted, high-feeling, sometimes on top of it, sometimes cracked wide open on your kitchen floor.

This is what it means to live. To feel. To heal.

You are allowed to want slow mornings and deep love.
You are allowed to outgrow people who can’t meet your depth.
You are allowed to change your mind, rest more, and not explain a damn thing.

This week, may you soften into your own timing.
Let life unravel and reweave you.

You’re not behind.
You’re not too late.
You’re not too much.

You’re right on time, babe.

🔐 Ready to go deeper with me?

This space is reader-supported, meaning you help keep the ritual alive.

When you become a paid subscriber, you’re not just supporting my work—you’re stepping into something sacred. A space where we grow, rise, and rebel together.

Here’s what you’ll receive on the inside:

✨ Exclusive subscriber-only content
💬 Access to our creative community + group chat
🔮 100 Days of Devotion
🖤 VIXEN RISING 30 Day Challenge

If this space nourishes you, consider becoming a paid subscriber.
It’s an energetic exchange I don’t take lightly—and I’m so grateful for you choosing to walk this path with me.

Let’s keep building this wild, devoted, soft-power revolution together.

Upgrade to Paid

✨ Not a reader (yet)? Let’s still stay connected...

If this was forwarded to you and you’re vibing with the energy—
🖤 Sign up here to receive future love notes straight to your inbox.

In In the meantime… send this to a woman who’s done playing small.
She deserves the reminder:
You get to live softer, rise rebelliously, and take up every damn inch of your life. 🐆