I’m not bothered by judgment (most of the time). It’s a truth I’ve come to embrace after a long journey of self-discovery. In fact, I find it humorous when people decide who I am based on my hot pink hair, nose piercings, and tattoos. It’s their thing, not mine. As Don Miguel Ruiz says in The Four Agreements, what people think of me—especially people I don’t even know—is none of my business. And yet, I know that their judgments often say more about them than they do about me.
You’re not defining me at all; you’re telling everyone around you what you think of people you don’t even know. I’m not talking about the energy you pick up on—I’m talking about the surface-level judgments. Looks, accents, tattoos, a beard, or the color of someone’s skin or hair. It’s easy to make assumptions, but here’s the thing: Those judgments say more about where you are than about the person standing in front of you. It certainly doesn’t say anything about who they are as a person, or their ability to do or succeed at a job or position (if they’re interviewing with you).
Let’s start with the nose piercing. For twenty years, it was something I wanted to do. My ex-husband didn’t like the idea. So, I waited ‘til the marriage was over (though I didn’t know it was over yet consciously). When I finally got that piercing, it wasn’t just about the jewelry—it was a declaration of my independence. I did it because it made me happy. The first time I looked at myself in the mirror afterward, I saw something new. Not a new me, but a truer me. My face felt more complete, like I’d finally allowed myself to express something I had held inside for far too long. The joy radiated off me in a way that was unmistakable. It felt like I took my recovery from my eating disorder, which I had been navigating for almost 30 years, to a new level. By embracing this change, I was stepping deeper into my own healing and confidence. A few months later, I would end my abusive marriage, finally choosing to live as my truest self.
The pink hair came a couple of months later. Pink makes me feel powerful, bold, visible, and sexy. For so many years, I felt invisible—especially in a relationship where my voice wasn’t heard. The pink is my reminder that I am here, I am seen, and I am unapologetically me. It’s also fun, striking, and just the kind of energy I need to carry with me everywhere I go.
Then there are my tattoos—each one a meaningful symbol of my healing journey. The first tattoo, a heart emerging from a lotus, was born from a meditation I had years ago. At the time, I had no idea it was a metaphor. But now I see it for what it truly represents: a pure, open heart that is receptive to divine, unconditional love, compassion and wisdom. The tattoo created a visual reminder of my transformation.
The black panther on my calf is my spirit animal, fiercely guiding me through energy healing and life’s challenges. She first appeared during my first shamanic journey, a powerful healing experience. She’s the one who claws out the truths I—or my clients—sometimes don’t want to face. And then I added a hoop to my nose.
After the black panther, I added —the hoop piercing to my nose. I’d always wanted a hoop to complement the jewel. When my son decided he wanted to get his ears pierced and I felt confident he was ready to care for them, I saw it as the perfect opportunity for us to share that experience. We went together, and as I got the hoop, he got his ears pierced. It became such a fun and meaningful memory for both of us, one that still brings me joy every time I think of it. The moment, the laughter, and the connection—it’s something we’ll always share. And then there is the dragonfly.
The dragonfly on my right shoulder is a symbol of healing and transformation. I first saw the dragonfly two summers before my cancer diagnosis. It landed on my shoulder and stayed with me for a long time. A year and a half later, I was diagnosed with cancer near the front of my deltoid. As I went through my healing journey, I continued to encounter dragonflies, which felt like reminders of the deeper healing I needed to do. Eventually, I chose the dragonfly tattoo on my shoulder as a symbol of transformation—reminding me that every painful experience can lead to a new beginning.
From the dragonfly landing on my shoulder to a summer of drawing dragonflies to almost a year after I was cancer free adding the tattoo (the artist never saw my drawing- talk about synergy)
All of these choices—piercings, hair, ink—are more than just a fashion statement. They are marks of my healing, of my freedom, of my willingness to be fully seen. So, while you may judge me at first glance—or judge others for showing up differently—understand this: every time we judge someone else, we’re revealing more about ourselves than we are about them. It’s not about me or anyone else; it’s about you and the story you’re telling yourself. Are you willing to look beyond what you see? And see us?
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