When did I cut myself off from love?

Releasing the hidden blocks to love, trust, and abundance that I didn't realize I was carrying. I realized something today during a tapping session called I Am Love . The question came up: When did I cut myself off from love? The first answer that surfaced was after my dad died. The grief was so overwhelming that I turned inward. I withdrew from the world, stopped doing the things that once brought me joy, and quietly disappeared into myself. It felt safer to protect my heart than to risk feeling that kind of pain again. But when I looked deeper, I realized it started even earlier. When the mortgage industry crashed in 2007 and 2008, I lost my job and lived in constant fear of losing everything. I had built a successful life that required a substantial income to maintain, and suddenly I was forced to let go of memberships, activities, and the lifestyle I had known. One of the hardest losses was my social circle. Every weekend, my house was full of friends. I cooked, entertained, ...

When did I cut myself off from love?

Releasing the hidden blocks to love, trust, and abundance that I didn't realize I was carrying.

I realized something today during a tapping session called I Am Love.

The question came up: When did I cut myself off from love?

The first answer that surfaced was after my dad died. The grief was so overwhelming that I turned inward. I withdrew from the world, stopped doing the things that once brought me joy, and quietly disappeared into myself. It felt safer to protect my heart than to risk feeling that kind of pain again.

But when I looked deeper, I realized it started even earlier.

When the mortgage industry crashed in 2007 and 2008, I lost my job and lived in constant fear of losing everything. I had built a successful life that required a substantial income to maintain, and suddenly I was forced to let go of memberships, activities, and the lifestyle I had known.

One of the hardest losses was my social circle.

Every weekend, my house was full of friends. I cooked, entertained, bought the food and drinks, and welcomed everyone in. Yet they almost always arrived empty-handed. When I finally admitted that I couldn't afford to keep footing the bill and asked them to contribute if they wanted to come over, the excuses began.

"I don't know where the grocery store is."

"I don't know where the liquor store is."

People who lived minutes away somehow couldn't figure it out.

Eventually I realized they weren't there for me. They were there for what I provided. So I ended those relationships.

In many ways, I watched my dad live the same story. When he had money, everyone wanted to be around him. When the money disappeared, so did the friends. I unknowingly repeated a pattern I had already witnessed.

Looking back now, I can also see that those experiences created energetic blocks and limiting beliefs that I carried for years. I began to associate money with loss, instability, and conditional relationships. I learned to believe that people only stayed when there was something to gain and that financial hardship meant isolation. Without realizing it, I closed my heart not only to love but also to abundance.

Then I moved to a new area and tried opening myself up again, only to be betrayed. So I retreated once more into the safety of my home, my solitude, and the unconditional love of my dog.

Today, though, I see something different.

I don't think I closed myself off because I didn't love myself. I've always had a healthy sense of who I am. I closed myself off because I stopped believing it was safe to receive love from others.

And in doing so, I also blocked myself from receiving support, generosity, opportunity, and prosperity. I built walls around my heart that unintentionally became walls around my relationship with money as well.

Today, I'm choosing to release those old stories.

I'm releasing the belief that people only love me for what I can provide.

I'm releasing the fear that money always disappears.

I'm releasing the idea that accepting help makes me weak or indebted.

I'm releasing the need to protect myself by shutting the world out.

Instead, I'm choosing to believe that healthy relationships are reciprocal, that abundance can flow in unexpected ways, and that love and money are both forms of energy meant to circulate freely.

I don't have lavish parties to offer anymore. I don't have money to attract opportunists. What I have is my wisdom, my experience, my resilience, and my heart.

And maybe that's exactly what should attract the right people.

This morning, a complete stranger donated $10 to my GoFundMe. Ten dollars may not seem like much, but to me it felt enormous. It wasn't about the amount—it was about the intention behind it.

Someone who likely doesn't have much themselves chose to share what they could with me.

That simple act cracked something open inside my heart.

For the first time in a long time, I didn't just feel gratitude. I felt loved.

Maybe this next chapter isn't about finding people who take from me. Maybe it's about allowing people to give, allowing myself to receive, and trusting that genuine love doesn't keep score.

I'm choosing to open my heart again—not blindly, but wisely.

I'm choosing to believe that kindness still exists.

I'm choosing to release every energetic block that has kept love, connection, and abundance at arm's length.

And I'm choosing to believe that I am worthy of receiving the same love I've spent my life giving to everyone else.

My healing journey didn't end with surviving—it continues every single day. As I rebuild my life after catastrophic injuries, every act of kindness helps me stay housed, continue my recovery, and move one step closer to independence.

If my story has touched your heart and you'd like to be part of that journey, please consider supporting my GoFundMe. Whether it's $10, $20, or simply sharing the campaign, every contribution is a reminder that compassion still exists and that none of us has to walk through life's hardest moments alone.

Thank you for believing in me and for helping me keep moving forward.

self-love, healing journey, EFT tapping, emotional healing, grief recovery, limiting beliefs, money mindset, relationship patterns, abundance mindset, energetic blocks, vulnerability, personal growth, trauma recovery, opening your heart, receiving love, resilience, trust, generosity, GoFundMe journey, transformation, mindset shift, life after loss, healing from betrayal, choosing love, emotional resilience, authentic living

Walking Through Fear While My Life Is Still Unstable

Walking Through Fear Anyway: When Survival Becomes a Daily Choice I’m at risk of losing my housing right now. That sentence alone feels surreal to write, but it’s my reality. I’ve already survived things most people only ever read about. A catastrophic accident. A medically induced coma. An amputation. Metal now holding parts of my body together—including my vertebrae, and my left leg from my knee to my ankle. I’m still learning what all of this means in real time, because even now, no one has fully explained every part of what happened to me. I also don’t remember the accident itself. Not because I’m avoiding it—but because my mind shut it out. The trauma was so severe, and my body was so critically compromised, that everything went into survival shutdown. I had kidney failure and heart failure. My body was shutting down, and my brain shut down with it. What I do remember is the day. I remember my thought process clearly in the beginning. I remember thinking I wasn’t in a...

I fiercely protect my energy — and let me tell you why.

I fiercely protect my energy — and let me tell you why. For most of my life, I’ve been the type of person people could count on. A good person. Someone who would show up, give, listen, and hold space. But when you’re wired like that, people often mistake it for weakness. Instead of honoring it, they take advantage. They lean on it. They drain it. I call them time bandits, energy thieves, and soul snatchers — people who see your kindness as an open door to take, take, and take some more. And when you don’t have boundaries, they will absolutely drain you. And for me, being an empath only intensified that experience. I feel things deeply. I absorb the emotions, chaos, and energy of the people around me. At first, I didn’t even realize it wasn’t mine. I carried other people’s burdens like they were my own. And when it got too heavy, when the overload became unbearable, I didn’t have tools to release it. So I numbed. I distracted myself. I tried to bury it. But here’s the truth: a lo...

When Trauma Breaks Your Reality, You Start Questioning Everything

I came across a quote recently that stopped me in my tracks: “Quantum physics is where they hide the scientific proof of spirituality.” And honestly? After everything I’ve survived, that line hit differently. A few years ago, I probably would have read that quote and simply thought it sounded interesting. But trauma has a way of stripping life down to its rawest truths. After my stroke… after my accident… after losing a limb and watching my entire identity collapse in front of me… I started questioning everything I thought I knew about healing, reality, energy, and what it truly means to survive. Because when your body experiences extreme trauma, you realize very quickly that healing is not just physical. It’s emotional. Mental. Energetic. Spiritual. Science is finally catching up to what ancient spiritual traditions have taught for centuries: everything is energy. Our thoughts affect our bodies. Stress changes the nervous system. Fear impacts healing. Intention matters. Human b...

I Survived. And That’s Not the Whole Story.

Nine months after surviving a catastrophic car accident and losing her leg, Jean shares the hidden reality of trauma, grief, anger, and rebuilding a life that will never be the same. A deeply honest reflection on survival, healing, and what comes after simply staying alive. People like to say, “But you survived.” They say it like it’s the end of the sentence. Like survival wraps everything up neatly with a bow. It doesn’t. I survived my accident. I also lost my leg. And those two truths exist at the same time. Survival isn’t a finish line. It’s the beginning of a long, quiet aftermath that no one prepares you for. The part where the adrenaline fades, the visitors go home, and you’re left alone in your body at night — in pain, awake, thinking. That’s where grief lives. Not the dramatic kind. The relentless kind. The kind that shows up when you can’t get comfortable in bed. When nerve pain lights up your body. When you realize your future won’t look the way you planned...

Jean Marshall The Artful Woman

Search This Blog

Trending Now: What everyone's reading.