Everyone Kind Is Welcome Here + No More Hiding
Content note: mentions mental health, bipolar, eating disorder, assault.
Hello, loves.
I’ve been quietly carrying a few truths. Not because I’m ashamed—because I’ve been afraid of being misunderstood. Today I’m sharing them plainly:
I use—and currently love—AI.*
I identify as an agnostic witch.*
I live with bipolar. Three years ago I chose medication—and it changed my life.*
*I claim the right to change in the future. This is simply true right now.
For a long time, I let “But what will they think?” run the show. I’ve been here before—coming out as a teen taught me the sacred relief of naming what’s real. This feels like that again.
All kinds of kind are welcome.
You do not have to be LGBTQIA+, neurodivergent, witchy, or believe what I believe to be here. You’re welcome in my world if you’re kind—to yourself and to others. Truly. Always.
When I talked about using AI in my last newsletter, more than one person unsubscribed. Old me would’ve flinched. New me sees it as alignment deepening.
If “my truth” isn’t for someone, I let it be ok. I bless and release with love.
Why share this now?
I have a long history of trying to look “okay” when things were wild behind the scenes. I’ve inched toward and away from what feels like my calling—freedom, ease, expression.
The biggest blocker? Fear of judgment and rejection.
I’ve reached long-held goals, only to find that I unconsciously moved the horizon farther away.
Healing isn’t linear. Sometimes we spiral upward and still step backward. I’m okay with that. What matters is moving again, eyes open.
Lately I’ve been sitting with my shadows and asking different questions. Beneath the swirl I found fear—and then beneath that, a steadier voice saying, “Go anyway.”
So here I am.
What I’m most afraid of being judged for:
Being agnostic (read: not Christian) and celebrating being “a witch.”
Living with — and medicating — bipolar.
Wanting to work outside a 9–5 and help people live aligned with their Knowing.
Wanting to write a book that actually changes lives.
Being a survivor of rape.
Being in longstanding Eating Disorder recovery.
In the past I’ve stayed what I felt was more palatable by staying quiet about these things.
No more hiding though.
Do labels define me? No. They’re tools.
Tree and I talked about this on a recent episode of our private podcast, The Hippie Zen Magick Podcast (Episode #19: “The Spiral Upward: Healing Beyond The Straight Line): labels can help when we use them consciously.
I refuse to make “bipolar” mean I can’t do, have, or be what I’m here for. If anything, accepting support (including meds) has helped me move faster with more steadiness.
Will some people judge? Maybe even try to knock me down? Possibly. I’m still not going to go back to my old ways of shrinking.
My liberation is tied up with yours. If I’m allowed to be all of me, maybe it gives you a little permission to be all of you.
Tree and I have talked a lot about labels (he’s not a fan; I’m… selective). I think labels can be doors or honestly, cages. So I refuse to collapse my whole self into a diagnosis, and I also, for example, honor that naming “bipolar” gave me tools, language, and support—including the choice to medicate—that accelerated my healing.
I am. Period.
A whole-ass, multidimensional being. The labels are just lenses, not the entire sky.
A few notes from psychology (because feelings and facts can hold hands):
Authenticity supports well-being. Consistently aligning actions with values is linked with more vitality and lower distress. In plain terms: being real costs energy in the short term but saves energy over time.
Chronic concealment is stressful. Hiding core parts of ourselves creates ongoing mental load (masking, monitoring, people-pleasing) and can heighten anxiety and burnout.
Autonomy matters. When we feel free to choose our path—how we work, worship (or don’t), heal, and create—we tend to be more motivated and resilient.
Safe connection heals. Belonging with people who “get it” buffers stress and helps us integrate our stories.
(None of this is medical advice—just framing that helped me make sense of my own choices.)
What I’m not saying:
I’m not saying you must share “my labels” to belong here. You don’t.
(read this part twice):
If you’re kind, you’re welcome.
If you’re kind, you’re welcome.
If you’re kind, you’re welcome.
You do not have to be LGBTQIA+, neurodivergent, agnostic, spiritual, or share any of the labels to be here.
Mud Lotus Arts is for anyone practicing kindness — with yourself and others.
My aim is to keep building spaces (online and IRL) where we can come home to ourselves: in practice form (yoga), in physical form (journals, Happy Mail) and in other forms.
It’s about time.
So I‘ll ask you:
What is holding you back at this stage?
Where, if at all, are you hiding your truth?
What labels do you know are true for you right now, but feel scary to claim?
What are you making the label mean about you?
Could you drop that meaning and choose to open to a new, more helpful or expansive meaning?
Ponder these in your journal, your notes app or with a dear friend.
Thanks for reading all the way to the end. Stay tuned for more content about mental health, recovery and being the best, most healed versions of ourselves while ENJOYING our lives. The spiral upward is real and healing seriously isn’t linear. Be well y’all.
Leave a comment below if you feel the call.
It’s been real, real fun,
Brennah D’Layn
P.S:
✨If you’re conservative or progressive, religious or agnostic, witchy or not — if you’re kind, you’re welcome.
✨If you’re new to mental health conversations or a loooongtime traveler — if you’re kind, you’re welcome.
✨If you use AI or hate it, journal daily or barely at all — if you’re kind, you’re welcome.
