the woman behind the glow
She was the oldest of four. The capable one.
The one who held it together while quietly wondering if anyone was ever going to hold her.
That little girl grew up to be me.
Irene
I didn't learn about love from my parents ~ not because they didn't try, but because they simply weren't there in the ways that counted. So I did what sensitive, resourceful little girls do when no-one's watching: I figured it out myself. I looked after my siblings. I got good at reading rooms. I got very, very good at making myself useful.
What I didn't get good at was knowing what I needed.
Or believing I was allowed to need anything at all.
My relationship history reads like a masterclass in what happens when a woman doesn't know her own worth.
A sad, moody first husband at nineteen ~ because someone wanted me, and that felt close enough to love.
Then came the charming one. The popular one. The fun one. The one I didn't recognise as a gaslighting narcissist until decades later, because I'd never been taught what love was supposed to feel like, so I couldn't identify what it wasn't.
Two daughters. A devoted couple of decades as a single mum.
A kind, adoring man-baby who at least taught me what it felt like to be cherished ~ even if I wasn't quite ready to receive it properly.
And then ~ because the universe has a wildly dramatic sense of humour
~ the grand finale. The PRIZE!!!
the Prize!
He was extraordinary. Or so I told myself ~ with impressive commitment ~ while colouring every single red flag a determined shade of white.
I abandoned my intuition. I abandoned myself. I rushed into marriage ~
he wanted permanent residency and property.
I wanted to believe I'd finally found my person.
It didn't take long for the mask to slip.
Every childhood wound I'd ever carried ~ the unseen little girl, the one who didn't know if she was loveable, the one who'd learned to make herself small to stay safe ~ opened, all at once, and bled.
So I ran. Literally. From a Victorian acreage to Queensland, with nothing but a blank canvas and the terrifying, exhilarating freedom of a woman with absolutely nothing left to lose.
I thought I'd met my person. I'd met my greatest teacher .... the gift in shitty packaging .... the Prize ....
the turning point ....
Queensland was where everything changed.
He had introduced me ~ in the most spectacularly gift-wrapped-in-garbage way imaginable ~ to plant medicine and sound journeys. And in the wreckage of that relationship, I picked up that gift and ran with it further than he could have ever imagined.
Four years of going deep. Breathwork. Sound baths. Hz frequency music. Colour therapy. Natural fibres. Healing modalities I didn't even know existed. I became a woman obsessed ~ not with fixing herself, but with understanding herself. With finally, after decades, getting curious about who she actually was underneath all the survival strategies.
And then I found subliminals.
Gentle. Effective. Working quietly underneath the noise of everyday life, rewiring the beliefs that had been running the show since childhood ~ without requiring you to be brave or perform or push through anything. Just... healing. Softly.
While you rest.
I knew immediately. This is what my women need.
the mission
Holy Glow exists because I know what it feels like to be the woman holding everything together while secretly wondering if she'll ever feel whole.
I know what it feels like to love unwisely, to gaslight your own intuition, to mistake someone's need for you as evidence that you matter.
I know what it feels like to finally ~ finally ~ choose yourself. And discover that the woman you find when you do is more extraordinary than anything you'd been searching for in someone else.
You don't need to have hit rock bottom to be here. You just need to be ready ~ even just a tiny bit ready ~ to come back to yourself.
That's enough. You're enough. Let's begin.
you were never meant to heal alone
Holy Glow is a sanctuary built by a woman who knows exactly where you've been ~ and exactly what's possible on the other side. You don't need to be ready. You just need to be willing. Everything else, we do together.