You're Dead To Me — and So Was I
- Karen Di Gloria
- 2 days ago
- 4 min read
Let’s get one thing straight before we begin:
This piece is meant to trigger you.
Not gently nudge.
Not softly inspire.
Trigger.
Because you cannot evolve if you keep hiding behind mala beads and peppermint essential oil, pretending you're doing "shadow work" while avoiding anything that might smear your spiritual mascara.
I don’t care how many times you chant Om.
I don’t care how many cacao ceremonies you attend.
I don’t care if you drink celery juice at sunrise while whispering affirmations to your inner child.
If you have never met the version of yourself that scares you —
the one you judge,
the one you cage,
the one you secretly think is wrong or evil or too much —
then you are not doing shadow work.
You’re decorating your denial.
Spiritual interior design.
Consciousness cosplay.
Light-and-love cosplay on the Devil’s playground.
Welcome to Earth.
Where consciousness didn’t come to float —
it came to bleed, break, burn, and resurrect.
Stop pretending enlightenment only happens in white linens and Himalayan salt.
Let Me Tell You About My “You're Dead To Me” Era
People used to know this about me:
Push me too far, manipulate me, take advantage?
You’re dead to me.
Done.
Cut.
Deleted from the file of my existence.
I thought that was power.
I thought it was self-respect.
I thought it made me a warrior.
Hell — I even cut off my own grandmother.
Yep. Nana got the guillotine.
Why?
Because she crossed a line everyone was too afraid to call her on.
Vile energy.
Volatile tongue.
And a family too conditioned to bow and swallow.
So I did what everyone praised in inspirational quotes:
I chose myself.
But here’s the punchline:
I only chose myself where it felt safe.
I could exile friends.
I could out-courage my peers.
But I was a doormat at work.
A puppet around my parents.
A contortionist in romantic relationships.
See the theme?
I feared pissing off authority.
I feared losing approval.
I feared being seen as “wrong.”
I could slay sideways — never up.
Power in isolation.
Pliability in hierarchy.
That's not sovereignty.
That's strategic rebellion.
Let’s Talk About the Thought You Pretend You've Never Had
You know that fleeting moment —that flash, that whisper —where you think:
My life would be easier if they just… weren’t here.
And then your stomach drops.
Your heart races.
You panic.
You shame yourself.
You police yourself.
You suffocate the thought and bury it in the basement of your psyche with duct tape over its mouth.
You tell yourself you're good.
Loving.
Spiritual.
Above such things.
But what are you really doing?
You’re abandoning yourself.
Not the evil part —
the human part.
The wounded part.
The part that feels powerless and imagines escape.
That part needs compassion, not exile.
Shadow isn't your darkness —
it's your disowned innocence.
Stop calling it evil.
Stop calling it unworthy.
Stop excommunicating the very energy that needs integration.
You're not a monster because you had the thought.
You're a child of survival instinct.
A being of emotion.
An animal in a nervous system suit with a soul trying to evolve inside it.
Welcome to shadow work.
It’s not romantic.
It’s not polite.
It’s not something you post on Instagram with fairy emojis.
It’s facing the parts of you that terrify you,
and staying with them
instead of pretending they don't exist.
True Shadow Work is This:
It’s the moment you decide to sit with the version of you you swore you'd never be.
Not to fix it.
Not to shame it.
But to witness it, love it, and integrate it.
Because here’s the cosmic joke:
The darkness you fear?
It's usually just a younger you,
begging not to be abandoned again.
And until you're willing to feel that part fully —
rage, grief, envy, violence, desire, vengeance, exhaustion, rebellion —
you are not “spiritual.”
You are spiritually anesthetized.
God did not send you here to be harmless.
God sent you here to be whole.
And you cannot be whole without your underworld.
Ready?
Let’s stop pretending.
Let’s get filthy honest.
Let’s stop cosplaying angels and start becoming integrated humans.
If this triggered you —
good.
You’re breathing.
You're waking.
You're remembering.
Shadow isn’t where you’re bad.
Shadow is where you’re buried.
And it’s time to dig yourself up.
Call To The Reader
If you made it this far, ask yourself:
Where in my life am I still pretending to be light because I fear my own fire?
Let this be your permission to stop hiding.
To stop performing purity.
To stop abandoning your darker truths.
Stand in the storm of yourself.
There’s a throne in there.
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.
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Just click the button below — your presence here truly means something real.
With fierce love,
Karen Di Gloria ❤️🔥
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