By: Neghar On: October 29, 2018 In: heart wisdom, Lifestyle, magic, Mindset Comments: 0

I googled, “how to start a blog.”

It was 2008 and I was itching for a creative outlet. After years of building a successful personal training business, I realized that although I loved my work, I had neglected my creativity for far too long. I’ve been writing since I was eight but had let years go by without doing so in my twenties.

So, no joke, I literally googled how to start a blog, and fuckin’ started it—this—right then and there. This blog you’re reading no was first called it “Eat, Lift, & be Happy,”  and it was primarily about fitness and food. Even though I didn’t know if anyone was listening (wtf are analytics?!) I wrote and I wrote and I wrote and IT. FELT. SO. GOOD.

Over time, this little blog became a legit website, and eventually, a business. I started coaching clients online, creating workout plans and nutrition guidelines. That evolved into “life” coaching & body image healing, which eventually expanded into what I do now: helping womxn reclaim their power through business & personal coaching, Tarot readings, and a variety of magical offerings.

I often joke that I went from kettlebells to crystals—macros to magic. As I evolved as a womxn and a witch, so too did my work, but none of that happened overnight. It’s been a solid TEN YEARS since I began. I have lived many lives, experienced hella failures, and taken a myriad risks. Every single day I wake up and get to make art and magic while helping others do the same.

But NONE of that would have been possible if I’d been too scared to start.

I could’ve let imposter syndrome keep me from creating that lil baby blog in 2008—who the fuck am I, right? Who cares what I have to say?! No one will read it so why even bother? I could’ve let the fear of criticism keep me small and silent. I could’ve declined the call to my magic, but I didn’t.

I wrote because my soul asked it of me—begged, really. I wrote because I needed to, for myself, for my own fulfillment. And I shared that work because art is meant to be shared, consumed, digested. It was (still is) scary as hell, but I did it anyway because wtf is the point of all this if not to answer your soul’s calling?

Darlings, what is your soul begging of you?

What’s that magic you’re being called to make?

What are you aching to manifest?

What’s stopping you?

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