The Voice That Broke the Spell

How Lilith Taught Me to Stop Shrinking Myself

A journey of unshrinking, self-trust, and spiritual embodiment

For a long time, I thought power meant silence. That being graceful meant shrinking. I learned early that taking up space—real space—made people uncomfortable, and somewhere along the way, I began to believe that discomfort was my fault. I muted my truths, softened my voice, and let parts of myself go quiet so I could stay safe, stay loved, stay included.

But Lilith had other plans. She came roaring through my chart like a wildfire in Sagittarius, reminding me that my presence isn’t a problem—it’s a prophecy. This is the story of how I stopped shrinking myself and started standing in the full flame of who I am.

Many Black children have carried the weight of words that were meant to discipline or "toughen them up," but instead caused emotional wounding, silencing, or a sense of invisibility. These sayings often came from adults who were themselves trying to protect children from a harsh world—but they still left a lasting impact. And while my experience is rooted in being a Black child, I know I am not alone in hearing:

"Only speak when spoken to."

"Stay in a child's place."

"You talk too much."

"Stop crying before I give you something to cry about."

"What goes on in this house stays in this house."

"That ain't none of your business."

Not many people know that I used to stutter quite a bit as a child. It was hard for me to get out a simple "hello." This affected my confidence when it came to public speaking, but even as a social kid, I still tried out for school plays and loved using my voice in theater. Later, I learned that stuttering doesn’t just disappear—we learn to navigate it through practice and persistence.

In 2022, my mother and I traveled to Accra, Ghana. There, we met a Black woman from Baltimore—a professor and speech pathologist—who told us about her work. Her words brought up so many memories of my childhood struggles with speech. She reminded me that stuttering doesn't go away completely; we just get better at managing it. And when I realized I still do stutter, just not as much, something clicked. I had learned to speak fluently by practicing—but also by surviving the pressure to stay quiet.

There were times I didn’t speak up. I shut down instead of trying to push through. I never realized how much those early experiences shaped my voice today.

As a Virgo Mercury and Gemini Mars, I’ve always known the importance of words. I’ve had to learn how to wield them wisely—not just carefully. Over the years, I’ve stopped aligning my voice with worry and judgment and instead, anchored it in truth.

I am a generational cycle breaker. It ran into me, and I had to rise to meet it. My voice needed to be activated in order to break chains and rewrite old patterns. I can’t just move in faith—I have to speak it, too. My twenties were filled with internal dialogue, but as I entered my 29th year, I made myself a promise to my 30's: to spend more time outside my head and be present with my voice.

Dating a Scorpio activated my voice in unexpected ways. The intensity of that relationship brought so many things to the surface—things I didn’t want, didn’t like, or had kept buried. That relationship was followed by lessons in my friendships, and eventually a hard season with family between 2023 and 2024. We are still relearning how to speak truth together. I needed my voice to do that.

Understanding my natal chart helped me realize why my voice is not just necessary—it’s sacred. There are gifts hidden in the shadows of our charts, and many of mine were left with my inner teen. My voice is helping me recover them, including my spiritual gifts of seeing and knowing. Once, I told someone I could see and hear things others couldn’t. That moment wasn’t received well, and so I shut it down and hid those parts of myself. But now, I’m calling them back.

Living the Embodiment

Lilith in Sagittarius in the 1st house is a placement of wild, untamed expression. It speaks to the sacred rebellion of truth-telling, of refusing to conform, of taking up space with your full being. Sagittarius energy is philosophical, bold, and ever-seeking, while the 1st house represents the self—how you appear, how you move, how you are.

When Lilith sits here, there is often early life messaging that says "your truth is too much," or "tone it down if you want to be loved." People with this placement may have felt punished, judged, or isolated for being outspoken, spiritual in unconventional ways, or simply visible.

But this placement is also an invitation: to reclaim the body, the voice, the philosophy, the presence. To lead with fire and let it be fuel, not fear.

And if Lilith is the wildfire that demands we stop shrinking, then the North Node in Aquarius in the 3rd House is the guiding wind that shows where and how to speak. It has pushed me to communicate more often, more openly, and in ways that serve collective healing. This node says: Use your voice to build bridges. Don't just speak to be heard—speak to connect.

Now, in the time of Aquarius, this placement is being activated more than ever. If you share this North Node, it’s your time. Time to honor this part of your purpose. Time to speak from the soul and guide others to their own revelations through your voice.

Reclaiming your Lilith means learning to trust that you won’t be abandoned for being who you are. It means letting the volume rise on your voice, even if it trembles. It means showing up for your own needs without the need to perform.

You don’t need to be polished. You don’t need to be palatable. You just need to be true.

For those with similar placements—Lilith in Sagittarius, Lilith in the 1st house, or fire sign Liliths—this message echoes: Your body is not too loud. Your beliefs are not too radical. Your truth is not too much.

Let it break the spell.

Ways to Work With This Energy

• Speak before you're ready. Share your truth in your voice, not the one you think will be accepted.

• Move your body freely. Dance, walk, stretch in a way that takes up space. Let your hips lead.

• Write unfiltered. Journal or blog without editing for approval. Let your inner fire have the first word.

• Dress in alignment. Lilith in the 1st wants you to feel yourself. Let your style be part of your reclamation.

• Practice spiritual autonomy. Define your own path, even if it doesn’t look like your teachers’.

Now at 34, I am a talking machine. I may not always get it right in confrontation, but I can roudly say: I’m learning. This is challenging work that many run away from. But during the lockdown, some of us uncovered our talents. Mine was my voice.

Coming out of that relationship in January 2020 was the beginning of a rebirth. My voice had been waiting for me. I began to romanticize my life, become my own muse, and share my experiences. Writing more. Teaching more. Showing up.

It was uncomfortable at first. My Egun were leading me, and I didn’t always understand where I was being guided. But trusting the process led me to create my apothecary, launch the Healing in the Balm Yard podcast, and teach workshops rooted in the medicine I’ve lived.

My voice saved my life. My gifts from the shadow became the light of my life.

If you’ve ever been told you're too much—too loud, too big, too emotional, too intense, too wild—know this: you were never too much. You were just ahead of your time.

This is your invitation to return to your fire. To let your truth be embodied. To unlearn the shame around your voice and step fully into your sacred presence. Lilith isn't here to destroy you. She's here to remind you that you were never broken.