I realized that I’ve been posting pretty consistently for a while now but haven’t properly introduced myself. How rude of me! Let’s remedy that.
So hello! Welcome to the Magnetic Projector…well everything. Website, blog, podcast, social media, whatever or wherever you found me.
I’m Lillith. I’m a Midwestern lady, born and raised in the suburbs of Metro Detroit. I’m a pretty normal person. Grew up with a normal family, normal life, and now here I am. (Just so you know, that’s TOTALLY not true. It was a joke. I have a dry sense of humor *haha* you’ll get used to it… or learn to ignore it.)
I’ve had a FAR from normal life. And honestly it’s much easier to ask me which parts were “normal” rather than what wasn’t.
Sidenote: If you’re not ready for real, raw, and vulnerable story time, I suggest you click off now before we get into it.
Still here? Brave soul. By all means, continue. Perhaps grab some popcorn?
I did have a more normal house in a suburb. I went to school. I went to college briefly. And… that’s about it.
My parents divorced early in my life. I was raised by my single mother who worked a lot to provide as much as she could for us and the rest of the time we (my full related brother and I) spend a lot of time at my mom’s parents house. And to be fair, that scenario was really good for me, personally. I loved spending time with my grandparents, I understood that my mom had to work, it just was. It was MY version of normal.
However, I also have 5 half siblings. 3 younger and 2 older. That story gets kind of crazy and I won’t go into too much detail here.
I was an intelligent kid; I loved learning, reading, writing, I played the piano, the violin, and also loved sports – especially baseball and volleyball.
I had a decent amount of friends in school, at least in the early years.
My story really starts when in Sophomore year of High School, I got two shots too close together and it completely transformed my body chemistry and brought out things that had been “dormant” in my genes.
I’m talking about the day I became part of the group know as Celiac. Except I don’t have stomach problems, I actually break out in hives all over.
I went 13 months and 6 days undiagnosed – which was SOOOOO much fun. Went to I don’t even remember how many doctors to try and figure it out. And there’s honestly something very scary in being told “I don’t know what’s wrong with you” when I felt like my skin was on fire and there was no cure.
So to speak of adversity, that was the first major thing. Especially being in high school as it was happening – you know how kids can be…
Past that, I was raised Lutheran – a denomination of Christian – and I questioned it. I felt there was something…more. Something didn’t resonate with me. Maybe it was that I needed to “dress for God” or that I needed to “go to church to show my faith”. I wondered why God wouldn’t be happy with me as I am. I wondered why I couldn’t show my faith whenever and wherever. And ultimately, I wasn’t totally comfortable with the term “God”. To me, it implied a more human-like being.
Now, I consider myself spiritual. I use the term Universe for the most part, because it more accurately explains to me what IT really is. It is everything. It is me. It is you. It is seen and unseen. But it’s, above all, unconditional love.
And some people have that representation when they say God, I’m not saying your way of talking about it is bad or that mine is better. It’s just what works more for me. What makes more sense and feels right for me. And you have what makes most sense and feels right for you.
As long as we both practice unconditional love, acceptance, understanding, and grace, you can believe whatever you want to believe in. That could even be just believing in yourself.
I also am very into witchy woo-woo things. Tarot cards, Oracle cards, Herbs, Intention setting, acting mindfully with our environment, being grateful for the Earth, etc. So there’s a big part of me that was told “that’s the devil” and all that jazz. Which, isn’t true, but as a kid trying to figure out what I believe in, that’s pretty concerning. Especially when I didn’t feel like it was evil, being told that it was created all sorts of confusion inside of me.
So aside from those, I was the misunderstood kid.
The one who didn’t like small talk and would bring up deeper topics in class.
The one that would try to get the people around me to stop focusing on the trivial, though age-appropriate, topics.
I’m a day-dreamer. I can be sitting and staring out the window and having different conversations in my mind with myself. Or dreaming up a whole different world.
I was told I was weird.
I felt weird. And I felt alone, because clearly no one else was the same way as me at that age. I was constantly wondering what was wrong with me.
But, I made it through, no matter what challenge I was facing, how people were treating me, or what I was being told by society. I always stood my ground.
Granted, I was depressed, I had horrible anxiety, I was constantly putting on a mask, I was self-harming for about +/- 8 years (that started when I was 13 and really hit a pinnacle in college). But I didn’t stop. I didn’t give up. Largely in part because there were some very good parts of my life.
Like I said, I loved spending time with my grandparents. My grandma has actually been the reason I’m still alive for more than one instance. I loved school, I loved learning. I had the awareness that it would get better, I just didn’t know when or how. And it definitely didn’t seem like it would get better, but a part of me deep, deep, deep down felt it.
Let’s fast forward a bit to my spiritual awakening.
I was technically “spiritually awake” for years. But it wasn’t until my Dark Night of the Soul that it really came to the forefront.
If you don’t know, the Dark Night of the Soul is where essentially everything in your life seems to dissolve into chaos and confusion. It’s like the “old you” is getting burned down to the ground so that, hopefully if you continue forward, you can eventually raise again from the ashes.
My Dark Night of the Soul lasted for about a year or a little longer.
It began when my grandma passed away suddenly in September of 2016.
And when I say I was close with my grandma and that most of my life was actually good because of her, I’m not exaggerating.
So to say that I was intensely devastated with this loss is the understatement of the century.
I contemplated suicide many times after that.
And not only did I lose her, but I didn’t have anyone around to help me grieve either.
My brother was dealing with his own stuff. My two closest friends had just moved out of state – and I didn’t have any others to talk to.
The person I did have was my boyfriend at the time. And while NOW, I understand that he just didn’t know how to handle everything happening with me, back then it just made it so much worse.
I figured out about 4 months after my grandma passing and him and I were living together at the time, that he was lying straight to my face. Making me feel like I was going insane (because one of my fears was actually that I would have a mental break when I lost my grandma; I knew early on in my life that losing her would be the hardest thing I’ve ever had to go through, and I wasn’t wrong.)
But that led to my workplace being hostile, because we worked together as well and he had been there longer than me, meaning the people who worked there were there for him instead of me. It’s a whole long story, but essentially these people already weren’t my fan beforehand, I was a supervisor and I got promoted very quickly in my career there because I worked my ass off for it and expressed interest in moving up.
And as we were going on our on again off again relationship while living together, he was confiding in the people who worked there, and therefore, I became the enemy and the offender. Mind you, he was telling them a victim-mentality side of his story, not the full story. I know this because I’m actually friends with people from there to this day, and they became my friends during this time. Again it was a weird situation and it’s a lot to explain. But moving on.
He thought I was mad at him. I told him I wasn’t mad at him I was mad at God for taking my grandma away from me. And every time I was home I’d be drinking and crying. That was my life.
Put on a mask to go to work, if I got upset at work I’d have someone cover my station for about 5 to 10 minutes, I’d go cry in the bathroom, reapply my makeup, and reput on the face. But when I got home, the mask was off. I sat alone in the dark, drinking, being consoled by my cat, crying my eyes out over the grief of the loss of my grandma.
To be fair, he said that he thought I was mad with him because I was happy at work.
If that doesn’t show you how much he REALLY couldn’t truly see me and just couldn’t understand what I was going through, I don’t know what else would.
If you’re keeping up with the timeline here, most of this happened within a 6 month span.
My grandma passed in September 2016, he was lying to me and I found out in January of 2017, and then my work life went to hell in January 2017 as well.
I put up with all of this for another month straight, keeping my mouth shut and just doing my job and going home. But when I found out something even worse that he had been lying to me about, I couldn’t take it anymore.
I found myself about to commit suicide. Like, so close that it scared something inside of me so deeply that I decided it was time to stop waiting for help to just arrive and I needed to seek it out if I was to continue living. I stopped caring what others might think if I got help. I just needed SOMEONE to talk to and vent.
It’s important to me to note that one of the biggest reasons I’ve never committed suicide is because my grandma’s youngest daughter (that I’m partially named after with a middle name), committed suicide at the age of 21. And I don’t want to do that to my grandma or my family.
Not suprisingly, I was 22 at this time.
So I found an amazing therapist. And started having sessions weekly.
It’s funny because so many people actually go once a month, so she was assuming I would be back a month later and I said “oh no, I need more help than that. I need to come every week.” because I couldn’t let myself have too much time alone. I was being proactive. I was saving myself from the thing I didn’t want to do.
So I saw her every week, sometimes even twice a week!, for 8 months as I was going through all of this just trying to figure out what the HELL was happening to my life and what the hell I was going to do.
However, for the first 6 months, all I talked about was my grandma.
For at least 4 hours every month for those 6 months, I needed to work through that first.
I figured the other stuff would be whatever. I’ve dealt with adversity before. I’ve dealt with people not liking me before. I’ve dealt with horrible situations like abuse (relationships). Those things were nothing new.
Grief was a WHOLE new ballgame that I didn’t know the rules to or how to even understand it.
The ONLY thing I had up until then that had to do with grief was that my grandma would talk about how she had to work through my Aunt’s suicide.
My grandma actually taught me everything I knew about grief and how to handle it and how to continue on after it.
But without my grandma, I still didn’t want to continue.
To further illustrate our relationship, I used to tell my grandma that she needed to live to be 150 years old. She said “Heck no, I don’t want to be around that long. The oldest person in the Bible was only 127 years old.” And I’d respond “Okay! Fine, 127 years old and I’ll just die young.” And we’d laugh about it.
And to be quite frank, one thing I told my therapist was that “There’s nothing in life that has prepared me for this loss.”
Even after I told her about my multiple childhood trauma’s…
Even after I told her about my personal depression, anxiety, and outsider struggles…
Even after I told her about my self harm…
Even after I told her about all the external pressures… The fact that I felt like a constant disappointment, like a burden, like I wasn’t loved for being who I am…
Even after the high school roller coaster of my health issues, going 13 months and 6 days undiagnosed AND continutally breaking out all over my skin, getting made fun of at school, not being able to sleep, losing weight so unhealthily fast because I wasn’t sure what to do about my health issues, not being able to sleep at night…
Even after going through a physically abusive and controlling relationship…
Even after miscarriages…
And believe it or not, there’s still more! But it’d be a 10 foot long list or more. So I’ll stop here.
But everything in my life went to chaos and darkness when those 6 months passed.
I had to completely tear down who I thought I was and start over.
If you didn’t know, after the Dark Night of the Soul, there’s “the Void”. And essentially the Void is where you feel numb, you feel like you’re disconnected from any higher power, you just…are. You exist. You don’t LIVE, you EXIST. In this space. In this space of what feels like nothingness.
Possibly unfortunately, the Void can last years. Depending on how much you’re able to work through it and also when your soul is ready to move forward again.
It took me 3 years in the Void before I started feeling like I was rediscovering life again. And if you’re doing your math, I only just recently transitioned out of the Void, in October/November of 2020. So it’s been 6 months on the other side now.
And good fucking God is it SO MUCH DIFFERENT.
Things have meaning again.
I can feel happy again without feeling guilty.
Do I still cry? Of course! Do I still feel sad? Angry? Confused? Numb? Yes! All of these are still natural human emotions.
Things happen and we need to process them.
The difference is that I have been given the gift of being able to feel it all again.
Both the good and the bad.
In the Void, it was mainly numb. I felt depressed, sad, and alone. I wasn’t alone, but I felt alone.
But that leads me to today.
And who I am today is so much stronger, loving, understanding, BECAUSE of everything I went through.
In the moment, it fucking sucks.
But it’s not happening TO you.
It’s happening FOR you.
And it may not feel like it at the time, but it’s true.
So as we’ve talked about, I’ve always felt outside and like the weird person.
As that, I’ve tried continuously to understand myself – or to understand what’s wrong with me – but I’ve found that there’s nothing wrong with me.
I just AM different.
And the personality tests that I took years ago helped me explain a little about how.
The BEST thing I’ve found to help me understand how I’m different and work with it; AND be able to explain it to myself and others; is Human Design.
It’s the most real thing that helps me understand who I am in the world, why I’m here, what I’m meant to do, what my purpose is, why certain people react to me the way they do, why I react to others a certain way, and just SO much more.
Human Design is the biggest permission slip to be truly, authentically ME. In all my weirdness. In all my quirks. Because that’s what the world needs. That’s what MY soul needs. To be this. To be me. And I’m exactly as I’m supposed to be.
It’s all the conditioning and external expectations that have been put on me beforehand that have taken me off my path previously.
Unlearning all that BS has brought me FREEDOM.
Freedom to just be.
Without needing to prove myself.
Without needing to be “good enough” in someone else’s eyes.
Without needing feel “unworthy until it’s earned”.
Without all of that.
My journey doesn’t have anything to do with my Human Design. But it also has EVERYTHING to do with my Human Design as well.
And so does yours.
What’s been your journey to get here?
Who are you?
Because that’s what the world needs from you.
I’m not telling you my journey to get sympathy. I don’t need sympathy.
What I need is for YOU to feel able to share your story as well.
No matter how “normal” or fucked up it is.
Because who you are right now, is the culmination of who you’ve decided to be BECAUSE OF your journey.
And the world needs more people who are authentic. Who are real.
I tell you my story so you know I’m not perfect.
I tell you my story so you know I’m a real human being going through similar shit.
I tell you my story to show you no matter how hard it’s been, there’s a brighter day ahead.
Call it cliche if you want, but it’s true.
And if my story doesn’t help, then hopefully my other content will. Because I want YOU to be able to be truly, fully, confidently yourself. And I’ll do what I can to help you get there. I’ll give you the tips and things I did to get through.
You deserve to live a life that feels true. That feels fun. That feels like it’s your dream life.
And if you don’t believe it’s possible, stick around for a little while here, you may find different.
Stay strong, my weirdos.
And I’ll see you in the next one.