The Voice of Vera

#2

The Unfiltered Truth About Healing

Why It’s Messy, and Still Worth Every Minute

Let’s be real:
Healing is not cute.
It’s not some serene little soul journey with a crystal and a cup of tea.
It’s full-body sobs.
It’s rage.
It’s shaking in your car wondering what the hell just got triggered.

It’s also what saved my life.

The Real Mess

You don’t see this part on Instagram.
The part where you’re face-down in old grief,
blindsided by memories you thought you’d already healed.
The part where you think,
“Screw this. I should’ve just stayed numb.”

But that’s the work.
It’s not clean. It’s not linear.
It’s a chaotic, holy unraveling.
It’s the sacred mess you have to move through, not around.

Why It’s Worth It

Because under that mess?
There’s you.
The real you.
The one you’ve been trying to protect, hide, perfect, perform.

And you don’t meet her through logic.
You meet her in the raw.
In the quiet after the storm.
When the masks drop and the stories fall apart.

That’s when the shift happens.
Not all at once.
But it sticks.
You start catching yourself before the spiral.
You start breathing instead of blaming.
You stop begging for validation that never satisfied you anyway.

Let’s Bust Some Myths

Healing doesn’t make you pain-free.
It makes you truth-full.
It doesn’t erase the triggers.
It teaches you how to respond instead of react.
And no, you won’t float off into some enlightened state where everything’s perfect.

But you will start to trust yourself.
And that’s everything.

Choose the Mess

Because the alternative?
Is staying stuck.
In loops that hurt.
In versions of you that don’t fit anymore.

The only way out is through.
Through the grief.
Through the rage.
Through the stories you didn’t even know you were still telling.

The Bottom Line

If you’re in it right now, good.
That means you’re doing it.
It’s not supposed to feel good.
It’s supposed to feel true.

And when you stop fighting it,
when you let yourself be undone just enough,
you’ll start to remember who you actually are.

And that?
That’s the kind of freedom worth everything.

All love,
Vera

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#3

How I Learned to Give Fewer F*cks and Live Fully

There was a time when I gave too many f*cks. I was tangled up in other people's opinions, expectations, and judgments. I was living in a mental prison of "What will they think?" and "Will I be accepted?" I let those questions run and almost ruin my life; it felt suffocating. But one day, in Divine timing, I understood I was carrying the weight of opinions that didn't even belong to me.

The Breakaway

The breakthrough was sudden. And as I evolved, I started questioning whose voices I was listening to. Was it the inner critic whispering, "You're not good enough?" Was it the voices of my childhood, or my Ego comparing social media "likes", or the societal norms that seemed to scream, "I told you, not good enough!" Once I recognized the source of the noise, I began questioning it and moving it through.

Reclaiming Space

I'll be honest—at first, not giving a f*ck felt weird. It was like stepping off a Ferris wheel that had been spinning endlessly. I felt a sense of liberation. I started asking myself, "What do I think? What do I want? What do I need?" The more I listened to my own voice, the more I realized how much space I'd given away to other people's opinions.

Living Fully

Not giving a f*ck doesn't mean being careless; it means being care-full—full of care for yourself, your truth, and your peace of mind. It's about cutting out the bullshit and focusing on what really matters to you.

I've stopped chasing approval and started chasing fulfilment. As I transformed, so did every one of my relationships. I've come to realize that as long as I'm in an honest relationship with myself, all other relationships naturally begin to shift. They heal, strengthen, and grow.

By giving myself what I needed—compassion, patience, forgiveness and love—I inadvertently gave others permission to embrace the same grace. It's like a domino effect; the authenticity and love I cultivate within myself sets off a chain reaction, enhancing my connections with everyone around me that I love the most. And that, my loves, is definitely what I give my f*cks about.

All Love, Vera

#4

Honoring the Women Who Fought Before Us

Did you ever think that doing anything other than honoring the women who came before us denies our place in the greater scheme of things? Full stop —Breathe

Listen, you don't have to like everything they did. Hell, you don't have to agree with their choices or pretend they didn't mess things up. Often in some huge way. But if you choose the option to slap a label like "toxic" or "narcissistic" on them and walk away, you're not just doing them dirty—you're doing yourself a massive disservice.

Let me break this down. For as far back as recorded history, women lived in a world where the rules were stacked against them at every turn. The past few generations didn't have half the options we take for granted now. For many of us, survival wasn't about thriving or healing generational wounds.

It was about keeping food on the table, protecting our kids, and somehow holding onto a shred of personal identity in a society that said to be satisfied with what you have.

We fought like hell for something we could not even name. With limited resources, we had to dig for information. And then, in the blink of an eye, the technology explosion.

Did we get it wrong? Sure, you can frame it that way. We've all got scars from decisions made when we didn't know better or didn't have the luxury of time to figure it out. But here's the thing: judging through the lens of our current reality is a cop-out. Calling us "toxic" when you don't understand the battles we were fighting or the weight we carried to get us here.

You must understand you don't get to where you are without us. That's the raw truth. Whatever shifts we're experiencing now—this paradigm where we're openly talking about healing, breaking cycles, and living authentically—didn't come out of thin air. It came because those before pushed and pushed, and we pushed, too, even when we didn't know exactly what we were going for. It came because those generations bent or broke the rules in ways that cleared a path for us, even if it wasn't pretty or graceful. Their work—messy, painful, and imperfect—laid the foundation. And we are taking the brunt of it.

Let's talk about labels like "narcissistic" for a second. Did our mothers and grandmothers have the time, space, or resources to sit around exploring their emotional depth? They were too busy surviving systems that were slow to change. They didn't have Instagram posts about "holding space" or support groups on social media" They were doing the best they could with what they had, and sometimes, what they had wasn't much more than grit and exhaustion.

This isn't about excusing bad behavior. It's about context. It's about compassion. It's about evolution, and growth, and truth.

It's about stepping out of the trap of blame and understanding where YOU are on this long, messy, beautiful chain of progress.

When you dishonor those who came before—when you refuse to see their sacrifices, struggles, pain and missteps as part of the bigger picture—you deny your own place in that chain.

Let's be honest: you're here, right now, with the ability to reflect on these things because they fought like hell to give you this space. And yes, unfortunately, wounds get handed down instead of wisdom, and you might feel like you are justified, but that doesn't mean you throw the whole damn story out.

Healing those wounds is part of your job as a spirit-led human raising the next generation. Leading by example, modelling honor and compassion even when it's hard – because, let's face it, being a human is complex. And we make it more complicated when we deny our place in the experience.  So, for me, honoring where we came from is part of the process.

Doing anything else is denial. Denial of your roots, history, and the fact that you're not an isolated event—you're part of something much bigger.

You don't get to claim the victories of this paradigm shift while ignoring the blood, sweat, and tears of the women and men who cracked the foundation open for it. You're standing on their shoulders. Own your place in it.

In doing so, you honor them—not with blind praise or romanticized nonsense but with raw, unfiltered gratitude. Honor their fights, flaws, and the fact that they don't have to be perfect to be worthy of being here, acknowledged as humans on their healing journey at this time and place.

Trust me, when you do that, you're not just giving them their due respect—you're stepping fully into your place in your story. And that's where the real healing work begins.

All Love,

Vera

#5

Anyone who knows me, knows how afraid of ghosts and aliens and visits from dead I am.

Not that I didn’t believe but that I didn’t need proof. I didn’t need to see anybody. I just didn’t need. I didn’t want to see anybody. I was afraid of it.

So after my own death experience caused by an internal explosion, as the dust began to settle, I had a visit from my mother and father and my brother (who died in the same year, 1990) I was like oh my God like they were there. They were in my space.  Not that I could see them. I couldn’t hear them, but their energy was in my space. The room was practically pulsing around me.

It was wild.

I wasn’t afraid it was actually peaceful. It was very calming and you know it helped me. It opened my healing. In many ways it softened me. It revealed truth to me.

It was a wonderful experience to have their visits their energy in my space..

but still, I never had any desire and I don’t believe in these mediums. John Edwards and the Long Island medium. I would never go see them. I'm not saying whether they can or they can’t. Its just not my bag.

So, when my friend got front-row tickets to see Theresa Caputo, the Long Island medium and invited me, I of course said, yes, girls night out.

The morning of the show, when I was in the state of conscious meditation, and I say, conscious meditation, because to me I live my life in prayer and communion with the divine. conscious meditation, It’s the I communicate with God, the universe whatever you wanna call him. Doesn't matter to me.

Anyway, that morning I felt the energy, the spirit of my grandmother. Nanny. She just stayed for a few moments. It was very sweet. That’s the only way I can describe it because we had a rough relationship.

I immediately had this download of appreciation and all the feelings. In that moment, I felt different. I actually jotted it down and posted it on Facebook with a picture of her and myself at a very turbulent difficult period, for both of us.

So then I went on to think about the show that night in the Long Island medium and I thought, wouldn’t it be something if I got a reading. I said out loud, more than once.

At the show, everybody’s excited and everybody is there with some kind of a story and who they want go hear from.

She was very funny. Very NY, just like me. And she was spot on.

She was like you know I might be talking to someone else, but the message is for you too. The healing, is for who needs it. She sets it up like that which is wonderful because that’s the truth . That’s why we wanna share our stories vulnerably because it gives other people permission to do that as well and that’s how we heal right?

so her show is about talking spirits, but it’s a healing experience. It’s freeing to those people. It means something and it’s wonderful

Anyway, you know she’s pulling from the front row and my friend Sami on my left who who got us the tickets and my cousin Michelle on my right she was just getting started, massaging the front row.

She was talking about a farm and Sami‘s family had a legacy farm and it was in a little bit messy when it got sold. And they are both widowed.

Theresa and I made eye contact for a long second. There was no exchange if energy or conne tion.

She knew it. I knew it. She knew I knew it and I knew she knew it. It was awesome and she moved on.

It was very interesting how she went through and talked with different people. There were many dead children spirits, but she moved quickly, being pulled to a man with whose father had lost his life to suicide. It was very raw and impressive to witness. You know the thing she said and the way they reacted, in the truth  it was absolutely felt. That ended the show.

We left the theater and as we were walking back to the car. I see something shiny on the ground. I reached out and pick it up and I look at it quickly in my hand and it appears to be a broken little girl necklace. I didn't want to throw it back on the ground, I figured I'd put it in the trash in my car.  but when we were getting in there was a lot of commotion so I just dropped in the console.

It was two days before I got back in my car and at a red light I notice it. I picked it up and I realized that it’s not a little girl‘s necklace. Its a little bit more than that. It’s not an expensive necklace by any stretch of the imagination, but it’s not it’s not Claires jewelry. It is line new, like it was never worn.

and on the back there are these words, I can’t read it ,you know cause my eyesight is bad so I take a pic and to my utter delight, it saysI LOVE YOU.

I LOVE YOU

So did I get a reading?

You bet I did!