When your Light is so foreign to the collective, you will process it as Shadow because you desperately want to fit in. After all, a clairvoyant Adept can't be wrong if they look at you, appear to see you deeply, and then pathologize what they see, right?
What if an entire lodge of Adepts, an entire coven of Adepts or an entire parampara or sampradaya of Adepts looks at you with their oracular gifts and judges your voice, your expression, your truth, or your spiritual experience as a "problem", then they must be seeing you at least partially correctly...right? After all, they did the work and know all the things!
Let's talk about this.
I was almost driven to my death due to absorbing the projections of so called "adepts" from various lineages who somehow all managed to FAIL to see me. Many of them were established masters in their traditions, others were modern spiritual coaches or priestesses who had large followings. I was broken by their ableism, broken by their psychic scapegoating, and nearly killed myself trying to be the person they insisted I was, when I "healed" all the things they didn't like about me, but which were actually my GIFTS and my PURPOSE in this world.
(This was mirrored, by the way, in the mundane world: family members, doctors and employers did this to me as well. Talk about a self-sustaining feedback loop of shame.)
There was a predictable pattern: I was floundering, and a powerful magical adept would help me. They knew a ton of shit and had done the work. They knew how to guide me through deep blocks and hidden patterns. They would give me the tools to help me get to the next level. They often did this free of charge - after my one bout with a major cult (Twin Flames Universe) I almost never had to pay for spiritual teaching again. The adepts I met after TFU were actually nice and helpful, and I was given teachings for free constantly.
But then the tools they gave me would actually start WORKING for me. I would start making real progress. I would be on the verge of liberating myself from lifetimes of enslavement...and then the very same adept who had given me those tools would SLAM me back down. Sometimes viciously, sometimes with poisonous sweetness. It was shocking.
There was always something wrong with me. There was always some way in which I was not conforming to their expectation of what spiritual growth or awakening needed to look like. There was something in me that represented the monster in their fairytale.
In fact I was wired for a different way of knowing God, which they could not see, understand or accept. It would be the equivalent of having a powerful Kundalini awakening in a Theravada Buddhist group, where they don't work with that energy and would give you shit advice that would lead to you getting hospitalized. And then there are Saiva-Shakta lineages that don't even talk about the Kundalini in the first place, because these substances and processes can be worked with in MANY diverse ways and can be viewed from completely different perspectives. Depending on your intent and goal, there are thousands of valid approaches to the subtle body, and they lead to completely different - and mutually incompatible - experiences of unity consciousness.
My Kundalini was waking up in a very different way, in a way no teacher or coach could recognize. It was waking down in the Tala Chakras, in the Underworld hell realms where all of my teachers and spiritual coaches were afraid to look.
It was waking up something that had slumbered long in the darkness, dismembered long ago and cast into the void.
Something which no priestess, coach or guru could understand. So they pathologized what they saw, insisted that they were right, shut me up when I tried to speak for what my experiences really were, and bullied me in insidious, pseudo-spiritual ways that disarmed me and psychologically enslaved me.
Better to medicalize me or slap fake labels on me rather than admit you don't know what the fuck you're talking about. Their self-image as the Master (or Psychiatrist, or whatever-flavor-of-expert they wanted to be) needed to be upheld at all costs, even my sanity, my health and my very life.
I called it the Binding and the Blanket of Gaslighting, both of which methodically set me up for psychic scapegoating and the Soul Rape. It was stunning psychic abuse designed to frame me for something I didn't do, scapegoating me so darkly that I'm at a loss for words.
The truth is that I hold a forbidden face of the Goddess that this world long ago pushed into shadow, locked away in the Underworld, and disowned.
The truth is that in an era of false light, real Light looks like shadow, and is processed away as shadow in an act of self-inflicted empathic violence against the self.
The truth is that there was never anything wrong with me.
The truth is that the Underworld brings the Reckoning, the Unraveling and the Humbling of arrogant adepts who think their wisdom is unshakeable, who think they've figured it all out and can abuse anyone who threatens this self-righteous lie.
Behind the overwhelming shame, behind the hungry ghost projections of these so-called spiritual experts who wanted to tell me what my truth was, I found a heretical Light that was all mine and nobody else's. A Light that was innocent and true, but so foreign to this world that it appeared as a monster to them. A dangerous renegade.
It was here in this heretical Light that Hekate found me. She represents what humanity is in stubborn denial about. She holds the blazing torches that make their eyes hurt.
This is the gift of the Underworld and the real power of Hekate. Her torches illuminate the shit that these false priestesses and false adepts have been sitting in, and they scream at Her to blow out the damn torchlight and let them return to their pretty fantasies.
Your disowned power, your Light that they made you think was shadow, is the key Hekate gives you to free yourself from the Underworld cage they put you in.
This is what it actually means to be a disruptor. Real disruptors don't shout about it on social media, we actually try everything we can to conform. To fit in. We know how much our heretical truth will cost us.
Nobody wants to be this radioactive creature who stands around triggering the shit out of everyone because your Light frequency is so foreign to the collective that they're convinced it's shadow, and you need to "do your shadow work" because then maybe you'll stop triggering them so much.
But you represent the evolution of humanity. You represent collective shadows buried for so many centuries that they were completely forgotten. That is what happens when a certain truth is pushed into the Underworld. Once it is in the Underworld, a collective amnesia sets in. This amnesia tells the surface world that their fallen, distorted way is The Way.
And then you slither up like a snake from the Underworld, biting them, your venom stinging them awake from the long amnesia. And they fucking hate it.
As I slowly reclaim what these false "adepts" desecrated, I feel more rage than I ever knew I was capable of feeling. And sitting with that sacred rage, listening to it and letting it love me by just being RAGE, is so medicinal. That rage, that holy darkness, is an angelic messenger of God. It does not need to be transmuted or managed, it needs to simply be allowed to be.
Just as I needed to simply be allowed to be.
I will not forget that they never simply allowed me to be.
You who see all crimes
Shine Your torchlight on the gruesome truth
Force those false adepts to look!
Hail Phosphoros, Hail Lucifera!
Arise in wrath, Brimo!
Roaring One, avenge the voiceless
Let the hunters know what it means
To be Your prey
IO HEKATE!