How a 60s hippie rebel became crushed and suffocated by the American dream but emerged three decades later more fiercely determined, creative and aligned to her soul than ever before.

It was at the point when I welcomed this life drawing to a close and the next one beginning that something shifted.

I knew I was buried inside somewhere.

That little Rebel born in the 1960s? She was still there, deep inside the woman, mother and grandmother I had become.  Her fierce passion burned through with a bravery and courage that meant standing up and sharing her voice. And damn the haters.

I didn’t recognize who I’d become and I wondered where it had all started.

Through a thousand small decisions, I had slowly built a life I despised.

A life that left me feeling trapped.

I was overworked, mortgaged to the hilt, and had effortlessly bought into the American dream of more, more, and still more.

If you’d met me back then, everything about my life would have looked rosy. I had the house, the cars, the work, the family, the respect. You may even have felt a pang of envy …

But you’d have been fooled.

The internal reality of my life was vastly different from the show I put on every day.

I was overworked. I never exercised. I never slept. I didn’t nourish my body. My spirit was drained.

I lived on crazy amounts of caffeine, loads of thyroid supplements (don’t try this at home) and B12 shots. All so I could continue pushing myself further and further. Harder and harder.

And all for what?

‘Push through’ became my motto and my health suffered.

But worse than that, I stopped living authentically. I became the person I believed I should be.

I was polite and stopped speaking my mind.

I became so good at people-pleasing that I stopped sharing my political views, lest I offend anyone.

Ditto for my spiritual views.

And as for my natural, intuitive spiritual gifts? Well, they left the building too….

I was living a life far, far from my calling.

I was a deeply spiritual woman, but no one knew that.

I loved cursing, but I didn’t curse.

I had a wicked sense of humour, but never shared it.

No one knew me at all!

I was a hippie for Pete’s sake! Raised in the 60s and 70s. A liberal. A socialist. A feminist. A creative. A rebel.

In truth, no one knew my heart.

Most of my grown children – all in their twenties and thirties, didn’t know my heart either.

And honestly, that breaks my heart.

And so, with a weary heart and a head filled with despair, I knew something had to change.

Through a thousand tiny choices every day, I began living my authentic life.

Now I get to spend every day with the people who really light me up. I trust my intuition and allow the magic to happen.

In many ways I feel this is just the beginning; as if I’ve got a whole new chance to re-live my life in a way that fills my heart with the deepest of joys and makes me smile and feel gratitude every second of every day.

Now is the time for more and more of us to share the beautiful, broken, quirky parts of ourselves that have stayed hidden for so long.

Today, I’d love you to come out and bless the world with your magic. We need your voice, your mind, your words, your opinions, your love, and, above all, your heart.

It’s never too late to begin to live your authentic life. You have the power, beautiful soul.

Now step out, in faith, and the Universe will always be there to catch you.

Love & blessings,

XO Maeve 

(Photo link https://unsplash.com/photos/TlBF3ZUVTvE)