Well Sh*t
Unleash the Kraken
"So I’m sharing now — my healing, my anger, my clarity — not for likes or pity, but because being heard shouldn’t be a revolutionary act.
How I Learned That “Growth” and “F*ck This” Can Live in the Same Damn Sentence
“You’re such a strong woman.”
My therapist said it with sincere admiration. And she’s not wrong — I am strong. I’ve got this dazzling talent for taking emotional garbage and turning it into compost for personal growth.
You betray me? I write a life-lesson newsletter.
You trample my soul? I slap a spiritual bow on it and call it transformation.
It’s not a performance. It is my gift. It’s how I survive. And honestly? It keeps me from going full chaos goblin on people who deeply deserve it.
But lately, I’ve realized I was using all this inner alchemy to avoid one little thing:
being pissed off.
“I can be soft. I can be fire. Some days I’m both before noon.”
Somewhere along the line, I decided that anger was unsavory. Low vibe. I thought it would get me kicked out of the Enlightened Empaths Club™.
So instead of getting mad, I got busy.
Busy psychoanalyzing the people who hurt me.
Busy rewriting the narrative into a cosmic lesson.
Busy being “above it.”
I went straight from “Ouch” to “Ohm.”
I skipped the part where I yell: "WHAT THE ACTUAL F*CK WAS THAT?!"
And you know what I lost in the process?
Me.
Enter: The Kraken
The other day, something shifted.
Maybe it was the planets.
Maybe it was hormones.
Maybe it was just finally hitting my “NOPE” threshold.
I got a little bit of energy back… and instead of gratitude or insight or inner peace…
I got mad.
Like:
“Your trauma doesn’t excuse your behavior” mad.
“My boundaries are not vague suggestions” mad.
“I am not your spiritual landfill” mad.
And for the first time, I wasn’t looking for the lesson.
I was just standing in the ruins, wearing sweatpants, muttering:
“Y’all are really lucky I’m emotionally regulated.”
The Both/And Revelation (because I'm multi-tasking)
Here’s what I’m figuring out:
I don’t have to choose between being the Soft, Compassionate Alchemist and the Raging Kraken.
BOTH can exist.
I can find beauty in pain. I can turn lead into gold.
AND... I shouldn’t have to.
I’m allowed to be mad.
I’m allowed to say: “That hurt. And no, I won’t be transmuting that into a TED Talk today.”
“Who knew self-respect came with tentacles?”
My therapist reminded me of the Circle of Influence.
Old me interpreted that as:
"I can’t control them, so I guess I’ll just become unbothered and emotionally ascended."
New me?
"I still can’t control them. But I can absolutely control who gets within 500 energetic meters of my nervous system."
Boundaries, baby.
Not walls — just very chic velvet ropes with a bouncer named ‘Hell No.’
I still choose love. But now?
It’s love with a gate, a password, and a motion-activated sprinkler system.
You can be who you are.
You can live in your unprocessed chaos.
But if that involves turning my heart into collateral damage?
You can do that over there.
The Garden & The Kraken
So yes, I’m still soft.
Still open.
Still planting good things.
But I’ve got a Kraken now.
She’s fierce.
She’s protective.
And honestly? She’s kind of fun at parties.
Writing in my pyjamas with a glass of wine,
xo, Sanne
If this hit somewhere deep:
share it, save it, scream into a pillow.
I don’t need applause.
But I’m always here for real connection.
Want more of this kind of realness in your inbox?
Cool.
There’s a newsletter. It’s irregular (like my sleep schedule), deeply sarcastic, occasionally raw, and always real.