The Addiction We Don’t Talk About

I grew up hearing that addiction was a genetic trait.

My grandfather was an alcoholic.
My grandmother too.
My uncle died of it.

By the time I was four, they were all gone —

leaving behind only stories, warnings, and the silent fear that it might be in my blood too.

So when I grew up and never got into drugs, or alcohol, or food addiction, I thought I had beaten it.

I thought I had outrun the inheritance.

But the truth is, I was addicted. Just not in the way anyone ever warned me about.

I was addicted to self-attack.
To self-criticism.
To carrying forward the pain internally, even after the external stories ended.

I had become my own abuser — from the inside out.

And if you’re honest with yourself, maybe you’ll recognize it too.

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We’ve been fed a lie: You can’t control your feelings.

That’s bullshit.

You can control your thoughts.
You can direct your emotions.
You can command your inner world.

You just have to care enough to do it.

Reliving the past won’t save you. Only radical self-devotion will.

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You are not at the mercy of life, or your past.

You’ve only ever been at the mercy of your own mind (and the nervous system that obeys it)—

• Saying yes when you mean no — because you’re afraid of disappointing someone.
• Staying quiet instead of speaking your truth — because you learned it wasn’t safe to upset others.
• Overachieving to exhaustion — trying to “prove” you’re good enough.
• People-pleasing in relationships — because love once felt conditional.
• Micromanaging your world — because control was the only safety you knew.
• Distrusting when things go well — waiting for “the other shoe to drop” because safety was never consistent.
• Feeling shame when you need help — because needing anything was once punished or ignored.

—All programmed by a brilliant, scared child who did the best they could.

But that child wasn’t meant to rule or ruin your life. And if you’re still letting them drive, you’re not healing — you’re looping.

There comes a time when you have to take the throne back.
When you have to love that child fiercely enough to let them rest —
And finally lead yourself.

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I no longer live in awe of magic. Magic is my everyday experience.

Awe without embodiment is still scarcity.
Surprise without sovereignty is still separation.

When you know your worth, when you trust your power, when you lead your own mind you stop begging life to love you.
You become the love.
You become the altar.

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Every trigger is an invitation.
Every moment of inspiration is a mirror.

Life isn’t happening to you.
It’s happening through you.
FOR you.

And when you stop sifting through your programming and start writing it—you become unstoppable.

You’re not here to heal the past. You’re here to author the future.

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I have written two books (Flesh & Flame and Forbidden Alchemy). I’m deep into my third (The Temple of I).

The Hieros Codex is becoming my life’s opus.

I know — without apology — that my work will outlive me. Because spiritual mastery through pleasure isn’t just possible. It’s inevitable — if you choose it.

Not someday.
Now.

So I’ll ask you:

Are you finally ready to stop worshipping your wounds—and start worshipping your Self?

The portal is open.

The only thing missing is your fuckyes.

In sovereign pleasure,
Sharon

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