The Night I Took My Energy Back
There are nights that change you loudlyā
and then there are nights like this.
I didnāt sit at my altar to beg for answers.
I didnāt light candles hoping he would change.
I didnāt pray for clarity about what heās doing or who heās with.
This night wasnāt about him.
It was about me taking my energy back.
I sat with Santa Muerteānot asking, not pleadingā
She doesnāt require performance.
She doesnāt need long explanations.
She allows truth to reveal itself without interference.
And thatās exactly what I needed.
šÆļø The Candle Ritual ā Transmutation, Not Protection
I didnāt want to block energy.
I wanted to transform it.
So I built my altar with intention:
šŗ Triangle of Transmutation
- š¤ Black Candle (center, closest to her)
To absorb everything sent to drain meāconfusion, inconsistency, emotional weight.
- š£ Purple Candle (front left)
To transform that energy into power, clarity, and control.
- šø Pink Candle (front right)
To return that power back to me as self-worth, softness, and beauty.
- š¤ White Candle (off to the side)
Not to actābut to witness, protect, and hold the space steady.
I created a sigil and tied it around my black candleā
a physical representation of my intention:
āMy peace is protected. My energy returns to me as power.ā
At one point, the string caught fire.
For a moment, the flame rose higher than expected.
And instead of panickingā¦
That moment said everything:
I donāt lose control anymore.
For hours, the candles burned:
The black candle went out first.
And I understood immediately.
It absorbed what it needed to absorb.
But the ritual didnāt stop.
The purple and pink continued burningā
still transforming, still returning energy to me.
And my white candle never wavered.
It stood there the entire timeā¦
witnessing. holding. protecting.
š§æ Real-Time Reflection
Right in the middle of this ritualā¦
Another way for me to step in and carry something that wasnāt mine.
And for the first timeā¦
And I didnāt go beyond it.
No emotional negotiation.
That was the real ritual.
I used to think I was holding us together with love.
I was holding it together with:
And the moment I stoppedā¦
nothing stepped in to replace it.
Heās been saying that for years.
But trying without change
is just another version of staying the same.
And Iām not staying the same anymore.
I donāt rush to answer calls.
I donāt feel urgency to respond.
I donāt feel the need to explain myself.
I donāt even feel the same attachment.
And that used to scare me.
Because I finally understand:
Iām losing the version of me that kept holding him in place.
This wasnāt a night of chaos.
This was a night of control.
The candles stayed steady.