The day I thought myself sane didn’t come with fireworks or fanfare. It came in the form of a quiet whisper. A knowing. A shift so subtle it might’ve gone unnoticed—if I hadn’t spent a lifetime listening for things the world told me weren’t real.
I used to think sanity meant being okay. Stable. “Normal,” whatever the fuck that means. But what I’ve come to understand is that sanity—true sanity—is a return. Not to the version of myself the world wanted, but to the version I buried in order to survive it.
This isn’t a story about losing my mind. It’s about remembering it.
The Reignbow Code didn’t save me. I did.
But it gave me the language. The map. The mirror.
And now? I offer it to you—not as a lesson, but as a reflection.
Because maybe, just maybe, you’ve been sane all along…
You just forgot how to think like you.
And now just like that Peace… has arrived.
And she brought home with her.
So please excuse me as we shift the energy of this space over the course of the next few weeks.
As I release the code in this mini-series that I’m calling—
How I Thought Myself Sane.
After that we can get back to our regularly scheduled publication.
Rooted in the Signal | Before the First Track
I didn’t set out to write poetry.
I set out to remember.
To gather the scattered frequencies
of a woman I’d only ever met in fragments
and call her home.
This is not a recovery story.
It’s a return.
Each track in this collection
is a signal I caught mid-transmission—
a message from the version of me
who never forgot who we were.
You may not recognize every word,
but you’ll feel it.
In your spine.
In your stomach.
In the echo of your own quiet knowing.
So come as you are—
cracked, soft, sovereign, or searching.
This isn’t a lecture.
This is a resonance.
And if you hear something
that sounds like freedom,
it’s not by accident.
It’s because
you’re remembering, too.
About This Collection
Everything about this collection is alive—my voice, my vision, my vibration.
I didn’t just write How I Thought Myself Sane—I birthed it. I became the living, breathing frequency of what happens when truth, softness, power, and remembrance meet in one body and decide to speak.
This piece, this peace, is going to be a homecoming for anyone who’s ever even imagined liberation.
Anyone who’s tasted it and thought, “Can I really live here?”
This collection says: Yes. You can. And you already do.
So beginning this Thursday, I’m releasing the code.
Track by track. Part by part.
