There’s this quiet tug-of-war I’ve felt for most of my life—and maybe you have too.

On one side, the part of me that wants to be “pure.” Clear. Clean. Disciplined. Spiritual. The girl who never needed much. The woman who could meditate through anything, sip green juice in silence, and be proud of how little she asked for.

And then there’s the other part—the one that’s always been hungry for beauty. For touch. For warmth and wine and long, lazy mornings in bed. She doesn’t want to purify anything. She wants to feel. To taste. To be fully alive.

I used to think I had to choose.

Be the good girl who glows from restraint, or be the wild one who risks losing herself in desire. One felt holy. The other felt dangerous.

But what if the truth is... we’re meant to be both?

The Inner Split No One Talks About

It took me a long time to even name the tension I was feeling. For years I just thought something was wrong with me. I’d go through stretches of being “good”—working out, eating clean, reading the books, saying all the affirmations. And then one morning I’d wake up and want to throw it all out the window and just live. Eat the croissant. Stay in bed. Text the ex. Wear the perfume that made me feel a little too sexy.

And then? Shame.

This loop of trying to be a better version of myself, followed by slipping into what I’d call a “pleasure spiral,” followed by days of guilt and self-repair.

But here's what no one told me: that push and pull isn’t dysfunction—it’s a signal.

It’s the soul asking to be integrated. To stop being split between saint and sinner, pure and passionate. It’s the divine feminine waking up and asking, “Can I be whole here?”

Midlife: When the Line Gets Blurry (and That’s the Gift)

In my 30s, I could still muscle my way into either role. Discipline felt empowering. Pleasure felt like a treat I had to earn.

But midlife doesn’t play that game. She comes in like a quiet storm and says: No more pretending.

Your hormones shift. Your body changes. Your desires get louder. The old rules start to fall apart. What used to make you feel “clean” now feels empty. What used to feel indulgent now feels essential.

It’s disorienting at first. You wonder if you’re losing your way.

But what if you’re actually finding it?

Purity Isn’t the Opposite of Pleasure—It’s the Root of It

Here’s the reframe that changed everything for me: purity isn’t about restriction. It’s about resonance. Feeling clear—not because you’ve starved your desires—but because you’ve listened to them.

I don’t want a “pure” life that strips me of my joy. I want a life that’s so honest, so aligned, that it feels clean because it includes all of me. My devotion and my desire. My rituals and my red lipstick.

Pleasure, when it’s chosen from a place of self-trust, is a form of purity.

A New Kind of Sacred

The other night I lit a candle, made myself a cup of cacao, and laid down on the floor with music playing softly. No agenda. No breathwork. No journaling. Just me, my body, and the quiet hum of presence.

And for the first time in a long time, I felt whole.

Not because I was fixing anything. Not because I’d followed some protocol. But because I’d let myself be—in pleasure, in peace, without apology.

That’s the line I’m walking now. And maybe you are too.

Not trying to balance purity and pleasure, but learning how they dance.

Not being afraid of craving more. And not judging myself when I need less.

Just tuning in. Honoring the woman I am today. Letting her evolve.

If You’re Feeling This Too…

If you’ve been caught in the loop—be “better,” then binge, then shame yourself back to center—I see you.

If you’ve felt too tired to “purify,” but too guilty to fully enjoy your pleasures—I see you.

You’re not broken. You’re just in the in-between. The shedding. The becoming.

This isn’t your fall from grace. It’s your return to wholeness.

And you don’t have to choose between purity and pleasure anymore.

You just have to choose you.