The Sacred Violence of Self-Honesty
- Karen Di Gloria
- Nov 18, 2025
- 3 min read
Truth doesn’t always arrive as a whisper.
Sometimes it arrives as a blade.
Everyone loves the idea of awakening —
until the truth shows up swinging, demanding blood sacrifice.
Not of others —
of your illusions.
Let’s not pretend —
you’ve mistaken numbness for peace before.
You've called your silence “growth.”
You've worshiped calm while stitching your tongue to your own throat.
You didn’t evolve —
you anesthetized.
There is a reason spiritual spaces feel like padded rooms lately.
Soft voices.
Neutral tones.
No one wanting to be “low vibration.”
Everyone terrified of being the villain in someone else’s narrative.
Spirituality has become a comfort cult.
A sanctuary not for awakening — but avoidance.
And avoidance has teeth.
Truth hurts. Suppression rots.
There are only two violences in this life:
The violence of truth.
And
The violence of self-suppression.
One cuts you open so the poison can drain.
The other buries poison under the skin until you forget it was ever foreign —
until you call it “personality,”
“kindness,”
or my personal favorite —
“being the bigger person.”
Self-erasure is not enlightenment.
It’s slow suicide with angel wings glued on.
Do You Want Peace or Anesthesia?
Let’s be honest.
Half the people preaching “inner peace” aren’t peaceful —
they’re sedated.
If your peace depends on staying quiet,
never disrupting the world,
and tucking your truth under your tongue like contraband —
that’s not peace.
That's emotional morphine.
“Love and light” isn’t holy if it demands your silence.
Calm isn’t sacred if it costs you your truth.
Do you want peace —
or do you want anesthesia?
Only one wakes the soul.
The other embalms it.
Emotional Masochism in Spiritual Robes
Let’s talk about the “I don’t want conflict” crowd.
You think you’re being loving.
You think you're preserving harmony.
Truth?
You're addicted to being palatable.
You’re terrified of being seen as the problem.
You confuse “avoiding harm” with “avoiding discomfort.”
But here's the spell you don't know you're casting:
Every time you swallow what needed to be said,
you perform a ritual.
A dark one.
Self-betrayal is the first spell cast against your own soul.
That little sting in your chest when you abandon yourself?
That’s the hex landing.
That’s the curse taking root.
You became your own oppressor —
then called it kindness.
The Witch's Way
A true witch doesn’t fear the truth.
She fears the wound festering beneath unspoken words.
She knows lies rot the spirit faster than any shadow ever could.
She speaks when it’s inconvenient.
She names what others pretend not to feel.
She honors the sacred discomfort of honesty.
Because she understands one thing the light-addicted do not:
Truth saves souls.
Silence sacrifices them.
The witch archetype isn’t about candles and herbs —
it’s the woman who refuses to cosign her own disappearance.
When she feels the truth rise, she doesn’t swallow it —
she exhales fire.
Not to hurt —
but to purify.
And yes, purification burns.
Spirituality without fire is just emotional sedation.
Authenticity without confrontation is just pageantry.
Love without truth is just control dressed in velvet.
Your Turn
So tell me:
Where are you calling silence “peace,”
when it is really fear wearing prayer beads?
Where are you confusing numbness with grace?
Where have you mistaken self-sacrifice for divinity?
You can lie to others all day long and still live —
but lie to yourself,
and you start to die in installments.
There comes a moment in every soul’s life
where pretending becomes more painful than truth.
If that moment is now —
good.
Bleed a little.
Speak a little.
Burn a little.
It’s the only way to live again.
If any part of this touched something inside you, I’d love to know.
Leave a comment, share it with someone who might need it, or simply tap the heart if you're reading this on a platform that allows it.
If this moved you, consider subscribing to Divine Soul Letters to receive soul nourishment straight to your inbox.
Just click the button below — your presence here truly means something real.
In courage and clarity,
Karen Di Gloria 🔥
Comments