It’s all out of control. Bills due. Deadlines passed. Appointments missed. Brain baked.

 

All you can do is hide under your duvet, binge watching the world spiral away from you.

Barbie hiding under a duvet

Disconnected. Dissatisfied. Disillusioned.

 

If you’re not bored, you’re scared. And if you’re not scared, you’re absolutely terrified.

 

Or worse: you feel like you’re barely existing at all.

 

What are you even doing with your life?

 

It’s the question that so often gets asked…but have you ever taken the time to really answer it? Spent even five minutes feeling the weight of it in your hands?

 

It’s the ultimate soul bearing exercise; spelling out our fears, doubts and inadequacies in bright neon lights. Most people shy away from the truth of it.

A teal background with FEAR spelled out three times

 

Not knowing means not having to take responsibility. It means you can sit back and blame life for all the awful circumstances that tie you down and trip you up.

 

I’ll never lose the weight because I’m sick and tired.

Nothing ever goes my way.

Everything is out of my control, so why bother?

I’m too ugly to attract my ideal partner, so I’ll be alone forever.

 

You make friends with disappointment and bunk down for a long life of short sightedness.

 

A Better Way

What if there was a better way, though? What if slogging through, numb and despondent, wasn’t the only option?

Chances are you’d say, ha ha very funny. Get real.

Go on. Say it. I don’t mind.

Because I got the truth serum right up in here, and if you don’t want a taste, go on and whine to ya mama like always.

Ah, see.

Now you want it.

Alright, I’m gonna sock it to ya, butcha gotta be ready for it:

Conscious living.

Uh huh. I said it. I’m gonna say it again.

Conscious living.

Chew on that for a minute while I bring you up to speed on what I mean.

What is Conscious Living?

I know it sounds a little pretentious, but take it from a girl who grew up in a trailer; it ain’t.

Conscious living is simply choosing to live with meaning and purpose.

Not just when you are on vacation in Greece. Not just on social media where you can doctor your life to appear meaningful and exciting. Not just for Christmas and birthdays.

I mean all the time. Choosing for every moment in every old day to hold meaning and purpose. Making a conscious choice to connect.

When you make dinner. When you commute. When you buy new clothes. When you put on make-up. When you take medication and go to the gym.

Conscious living doesn’t require that you put a disco ball in the kitchen and dance from dawn till dusk (though you can – no judgements). It just means bringing your mind into the moment. Deciding to care. Noticing the robins singing as you take out the trash. Turning the radio up when stuck in a traffic jam, and being thankful you have a car in the first place.

You are free to find purpose and meaning in everything; your breath, your coffee, your nail polish. Everything.

Freedom and Responsibility

Living consciously also means taking responsibility. For your choices and actions, and how they effect your life and others’. Not blaming, but learning. Not failing, but pivoting.

 

It’s paying attention to how you feel when you eat. Where the food came from and how it impacts the earth. How the chemicals in your cosmetics may be hurting your health – or the rain forest. Where you direct your energy and what it manifests.

Red lipstick in the forest

But living consciously is also living in freedom. Freedom to see the beauty and wonder. Freedom to connect. Freedom to consider the deeper meaning and purpose. Freedom from getting distracted by the same old junk everyone else is obsessed with. Freedom from complaining about the weather and traffic and long lines. 

How to Connect to Your Life with Purpose and Meaning

This will be different for everyone, so don’t allow any judgement or self-consciousness to creep in. Let your truth to flow.

Start by connecting to yourself and Find Who You Really Are; it’s an awesome guide to help you unearth the beautiful gems of your soul and kick start conscious living.

 

A headless Barbie with a question mark above it

 

Take it further and get super juicy with 58 ways to Save the World With Your Brain, Body, and Beauty. Total inspiration for living a life full of meaning and purpose and wonderfulness.

A glamorous woman sewing in the forest

If you’re ready, bring on the hot sauce and learn How to Be a Beautiful, Wild, Savage Thing.

 

a trip-tic of a woman wearing a grass nest on her head

Live Your Life Right Now

Find your purpose and meaning.

Don’t wait.

Connect now.

Breathe it in.

Life is waiting for you.

Live the heck out of it.

 

Tell me. Did you have a life changing experience when atop a Peruvian mountain? What draws you in and makes you feel so deeply connected to this life? How are you changing the status quo? I want to know. 

What's Your Story Button

New to this whole self-love hypnosis thing?

Not really sure what the heck you’re doing?

Skeptical that it even works?

A little scared that it might actually work?

Not to worry, honey.

Here are some solid tips that I have applied in my own life-changing practice that will really help you get the most out of your dedication.

A woman practicing self-love Hypnosis in a field of daffodils

1. Keep Going

Before I knew anything about hypnosis, I went to see a hypnotist see if it was all just a load of tosh. My skeptical brain was fully engaged and I was prepared to debunk the whole lot.

 

During our first session, almost nothing happened. It was comfortable and she was lovely, but I didn’t feel different and there was no “going under” – which I took to mean it was all bunk.

 

However, I went back many times, in the spirit of adventure. At the end of the third session I suddenly realized I was waking up — at exactly the moment I was instructed to. What did it all mean?!

 

Essentially, you are working toward relaxing your mind to a state of total blissed-out peace (this is the trance state or “going under” as they like to say), putting the analytical aspect of the conscious mind to sleep for a while. At this point, your subconscious mind is open to suggestion.

 

However, because we are so disconnected from our subconscious mind, and place so much emphasis on the logical intake of information, it can take several sessions of relaxation to actually penetrate the walls of your conscious mind. Your conscious mind is scared of everything, and wants to think and think and think and think it over. Calming that baby down can take a little time.

 

Point is, don’t be disheartened if you’re several sessions in and still struggling to get into that sweet spot. Conditioning yourself to relax in this way is a HUGE part of the healing process, and not to be rushed.

2. Lay Down

There’s no hard and fast rule for how you position yourself for hypno – in truth, it’ll have a positive impact if you were hanging from a tree. But hypnosis is most effective when you are in an ultimate state of relaxation – this removes the barriers your logical, conscious mind would throw up to prevent entry of new ideas.

A lady laying down for best self-love hypnosis experienceLay your buns down

Whether it’s your bed, yoga mat, sleeping bag or reclined car seat, lay back and allow for maximum chill vibes to settle in. You will be more likely to enter into the trance-like state where your mind is most impressionable and open to positive change.

 

3. Banish Distractions

Easier said than done, I know. But it’s non negotiable.

 

Anything that takes you out of the flow will bust up the efficacy of your practice. Phone rings: boom, you’re out of it. TV on: no way on earth you’re going to be able to focus while Don Draper sweeps her into his bed.

 

Find a way to gift yourself a complete and uncompromised 15 mins every day (remember, that’s only 1%) and dedicate your undivided attention to making the mental magic happen.

4. Do it in the Morning or Evening

You are most impressionable either early in the morning or right before you go to bed. Your conscious mind is sleepiest and least likely to resist your re-programming efforts at those times.

Establish a morning or evening routine (or both if you’re a total boss), and you’ll find yourself looking forward to the wake-up call or lullaby.

5. Do it Everyday

Do you want your problems fixed today or ten Christmases from now? Hypnosis will give back what you put into it. Dedicating 1% of your day, every day, will open up the other 99% into a bigger, brighter, happier, kick-ass party.

 

Up to you.

 

Skipping happens. But like anything, consistency is crucial. Repetition repetition repetition. Repeat.

Barbie scheduling in self-love hypnosis for best resultsHappy hippo hypno!

 

6. Allow it to Work

Hypnosis has a way of working it’s sneaky mental magic, even on the most skeptical. However, your ride will be smoother and your results supercharged if you simply open yourself up to the process. 

 

Open your heart. Open your mind.

To the investment of time.

To change.

To results.

 

You may find that it really isn’t for you, which is great. Self awareness is one of the most important aspects of true self love. Knowing something doesn’t work for you is valuable knowledge.

 

However, if you go into this with the smelly attitude and looking for the worst, it’s likely you’ll have a shit time of things and move on, unchanged.

 

Open your heart. Open your mind.

7. Make a To-Do List

It’s often the case that when we stop a moment to calm our mind, the thoughts go ape. A whirlpool of frenzied needs, wants, worries, and memories flood your head space, making you feel overwhelmed and out of control – precisely when you just want five minute’s bloody peace.

 

It can be tempting at this juncture to say, maybe I will try again later (which means never), when I have less on my mind (which will be never).

To do list for self-love hypnosis successJust get it out, you’ll feel so much better

Hypno works by laying new, empowering, constructive thoughts into the foundation of your mind. If you’ve got a wrecking yard of rusty thoughts to get through first, you are just making things harder for yourself. Just get it out, you’ll feel so much better

 

Do yourself a favor and unload your mind before you try and plant new concepts into the jumble. Take a few minutes to pluck all the whooshing thoughts out of your mind cloud, and put them to paper. That way you won’t forget, and can come back to them when you are refreshed.

8. Move On

If you feel like you’ve conquered an issue, awesome. Move on. That is the whole point of hypnosis – that you affect lasting change through repetition. You can spend as much time as you want focusing on a particular issue or set of troubles you have – that may be weeks, months or years. No right or wrong here. This should be life enhancing. No need to rush or put pressure on yourself with arbitrary time lines.

 

If you are human like me, there will always be a little niggling something that needs seeing to. So once you feel like you’re confident enough to wear a bikini in public, start looking at other areas of your life where you need a tune up.

 

You can always come back round to give yourself the odd pep talk in a particular area if necessary. It’s OK to revisit. Illness, stress, and trauma can make our old ways bubble to the surface, so don’t feel like you are a failure or have done something wrong.

 

Listen with kindness, accept with love, act with purpose.

THAT’S IT

So that’s it, honey.

Now you know all the secrets, there are no excuses.

Now you can be a self-loving, hypnosis doing queen in the sky.

You can find your peace.

You can find your strength.

You can find your way.

So be beautiful today.

 

PS. If you haven’t already and you’re a total boss lady, then you can hop right in and get your free Self-Love Hypnosis downloads now. 

 

Tell me. Did you get hypnotised at the fair and think you looked like a baked chicken for two weeks? Did you hook up with a hot dude at the bar only to find out he seduced you with his witch granny’s love potion?   

Don’t you kind of hate beauty blogs?

So freaking perfect. Sexy sea hair. Never sweaty. 

Me in the Bahamas, loving the sun, sipping a cocktail, being gorgeous, obviously

Hate is a bit harsh.

And I’m definitely not hating on beauty bloggers. 

They’ve got one small corner of the world tidied very neatly up in couture satin and exceptionally glamorous photography. They do the do with stylized perfection, flawless finish, and seemingly effortless grace.

Actually, I quite like a beauty blog from time to time.

The Importance of Beauty Blogs

The world could do with making a little more room for beauty and a little (or a lot) less room for spiralling, exponential existentialism.

But.

After a bonanza of beauty, I very quickly sniffed out a common silk thread among them: high-end product reviews, looking like a million casual bucks over muesli breakfast with raspberries, and endless holiday snaps with choral bikinis and designer sunglasses.

Who cares?! It’s not like I want to float in the azure waters of paradise, so carelessly cool and amazing.

A flawless depiction of Barbie and beauty blogsThe actual pink of perfection

Just kidding.

That’s great. It’s cool. I can deal.

A Different Kind of Beauty Blog

Except for, don’t you kind of want some depth? Like spine tingling, tears in your eyes, possibly-going-to-vomit-depth?

Don’t you want to find yourself?

Learn how to love who you are in the best possible way right now?

Find beauty that’s more than designer labels?

A sense of meaning and purpose and life and lust and freaking magic?

Create a life that emanates beauty from within?

Maybe you don’t want depth. Maybe the superficial mamas will be the last ones standing, laughing in next season’s moody mauve kitten heels, while I’m slung over a railing with chunks in my hair.

That would be less cool and I would be less interested in dealing – but I do have a sneaking suspicion there are some folks out there with a similarly unsatisfied appetite.

So, let’s eat. I don’t know about you, but I’m starving.

Without taking anything away from the well edited and carefully cultivated, I’m simply looking to carve out my gorgeous corner with everything that falls between the cracks.

What you’re afraid of. 

The real reason you spend all your money on clothes you don’t need. 

Your shitty disappointments and the odd face plant.

The actual time it takes and the real size and shape of things.

Give me the main course, baby.

Barbie with mangled handRough times for Barbie, but she’s still MegaBeauts

I’m all for a five minute fantasy. Sometimes, it’s just what I need.

But I want my meat and two veg, too.

Creating a Beautiful Mindset


So, if you want to stick to the creatively-calculated-straight-and-narrow, you have my blessing. Go forth and bask in immaculately manicured oblivion. 

If, however, you’re happy for shit to get real, and possibly hit the fan, you’ve arrived at the right place, and very much on time. If you want to take back your brain, body and beauty from the mess of uncertainty, doubt, and fear – Oh honey. You be at the right place. 

Lots of jewellery hitting the fan Thoroughly real, thoroughly hit

In the interests of introducing you to the flavor profile of this site, here is a little example of the kind of deep I’m talking about:

My coming of age story with regards to my personal vanity is so fraught with uncertainty and such bum-clenchingly awful choices, both in the cosmetic and sartorial sense, that I’m prickled with embarrassment at the merest mention of it.

Me wearing a paper hat and a big green Christmas bow on my Rome T-shirtNo comment

I actually went on a rampage several years ago and disposed of many photographs of me in said state. I regret.

More bad fashion when I was youngWowsa

My Not So Beautiful Past

Neither my mother nor sister were or are much concerned with make-up, fashion, products, high heels or flattering neck lines. They are so supremely practical, they are not interested in playing host to such frivolous notions. My mother is still waiting for when I get a real job.

I envy them sometimes; even though their abstinence lacks the electric zing of a brand new tube of vermilion vengeance lipstick. Their refusal to be defined by the often demanding, demeaning, and deluding aspects of coral shimmer narcissism makes them absolutely gorgeous with a kind of freedom my own regimens don’t make room for.

Anyway, the point is, these two leading ladies in my life had nothing to offer me in the way of beauty wisdom, so I had to cut through the thicket of self-expression with my own uninformed wits. Definite disasters ensued.

Earrings in a camellia bushThe jungles of sartorial uncertainty, rife with dainty dangers

My whole life, I had built up this mud splattered, bruise bearing, basketball playing, tough-girl-Tom-boy attitude; when the compunction to look pretty hit me somewhere around 15, the whole concept was intimidating, alarmingly alien, and utterly confusing.

Me looking awful at 14, with no access to beauty blogsJust don’t

Before Beauty Blogs

Now, you have to bear in mind that at the time, there was no Pinterest, no Youtube tutorials, no beauty blogs. I grew up in a po-dunk small town in the middle of conservative Nowhere America, and so my inspirations were limited to trees and cows and the celebrity mags near the check out at the grocery store that my mother really didn’t allow me to read.

Lucky girls had subscriptions to Teen Cosmopolitan, but we didn’t have the money for that and I would’ve been way too mortified to be seen reading such a girly mag anyway. We didn’t have a computer at home, and the school machines were obsessively monitored, with anything useful was usually kept under strict lock-and-key.

Hormones and Desperation

My first eye shadow compact was a pink and pearl mix, about twenty years old, and already used enough that the shiny silver plate under the packed powder was visible to about the size of a nickel. I found it at the back of the cupboard under the sink, covered in the slightly sticky film that things in the bathroom always seem to get after a long time. It smelt funny and was a fairly obscene shade of fuchsia, but I was into it.

One of my friends introduced me to the concept of liquid eyeliner, which pretty well blew my mind. I was so intensely needy of this modern wonder that I spent $7 on a tiny pot of the stuff, feeling like I’d just taken out my first mortgage.

Naturally, I used far, far too much of it, in every shape of asymmetry you can think of.

It was not good.

I can only imagine what my mother must’ve been thinking.

My face made up to be a granny in protest to perfect beauty blogsMy actual face

The ritual became religious. It took me two hours to get ready in the morning; I would sit on the bathroom counter with my feet in the sink, blaring out my radio, snapping at anyone else who dared to knock on the door with their inferior needs.

I did this for so many years, that I actually developed a divot in the lower right side of my right leg, where it rested against the lip of the sink all those mornings.

The indent was obvious enough that people asked me what was wrong – and that lasted until I was well into my twenties.

Barbie dong her make-up in the sinkSinkhole if ever there was one

Eventually, the liquid liner of dreams started to dry out. I added water to it, which made it a slightly gloppier version of itself, but I made it last for quite a while like that – no doubt contributing to the already cringe worthy state of affairs on my face.

When it finally ran out in earnest, I didn’t have the money to buy any more; I resorted to using a mechanical pencil dipped into my mascara tube to continue on with the Gothic massacre of my eyes.

It was not until I was firmly into my twenties that I could actually afford decent make-up, and didn’t need to rely on my stationary drawer for assistance. With a bit of confidence, a bit more money, and some formal beauty education, I finally managed to get it together. Mostly.

Creating Beauty Despite the Past, Present, or Future

Years of my life were spent in fear, doubt, loneliness, my bones rattling with uncertainty and self loathing.

And I don’t want that for you.

This is MegaBeauts. Where you and me and everyone else can be just totally juiced up on the weird, real, backward, not sure, round-the-houses, frenzied world of beauty as it occurs to us everyday. And take all that mess and find our power in it. Take back our brains because we smart mamas. Take back our bodies because we strong bitches. Take back our beauty because we own that shit. 

 

Tell me. Was your ugly duckling story simply awful? Did you try and wear a paper bag over your head to hide the worst haircut (that you gave yourself)? Was being fifteen the most frightening experience you’ve ever had?

What's your story?

I’d like to congratulate myself on twenty-eight years of avoiding magnified mirrors.

Really. And it’s not because I was never tempted, either. I assure you, I’ve been in my fair share of bathrooms where one was winking malignly at me from its angle poised position in life.

I mean, have you ever EVER seen yaself in one of them things?

Sister, truly, I ask you, what were you thinking

Hello Truth Bomb

I must now confess: On a summer road trip with my husband, we crashed in at a motel which was equipped with the aforementioned torture device.

You know what’s coming.

Exhausted, stuffed with weird travel food, cramped from hours of driving, thoroughly dehydrated, and otherwise not the least bit ready for my close up, my defences were down, my resolve collapsed, and I gave into the alluring depths of the mirror mirror on the wall.

The only remaining question is Why? Why oh why oh why?

A woman seeing her magnified face and scared of magnified mirrorsYou’d have thought this was lesson enough

I can say with unbiased clarity, I was not the fairest of them all.

Wicked witch looking in the mirrorCut my heart out, like she does best

Do Magnified Mirrors Tell the Truth?

I met parts of me that I never knew existed.

I consider my brows to be one of the small victories in my life, but mother save us, how had I missed this wilderness?

However, that wasn’t even the half of the situation: cavernous pores full of sebaceous abundance, thirty-seven raven black hairs on my chin (skyscrapers in a desert, I’m telling you – not a single inconspicuous thing about them), a constellation of blackheads and blemishes, topped off neatly with the deepening crevices of an alarmingly ageing terrain.

Man with pink eyes gazingThere’s what you know and then there’s the truth

A Reckoning

The question is, though, does the fact that I’ve never seen myself in microscopic Technicolor before now mean that all this time, the world has been harassed by my unkempt beard and cracked veneer?

Or does it mean that this mag monster shows you what no one sees, what no one could ever really see without a medical implement, but nevertheless tricks your self-confidence into shrinking down to the hundred calorie snack pack version of its formal glory just because it can?

Somebody, please tell me it’s not just me!

Tiny cereal box on a spoonIt’ll cut you right down to size

On the one hand, it may be a thoroughly practical utensil, saving us all from certain peril.

However, very firmly on the other hand, I want to know what the almighty driving force behind the conception of this contraption was.

Friend or foe, I wonder?

And, moreover, how does anyone get out of bed ever again after adhering one of these soul suckers to the mosaic tiled wall of their powder room?

How can you (quite literally) face yourself ever again, particularly if you know that face is afflicted with a certain kind of temporary but grotesque giantism?

Genuinely. I want to know.

Here I was faced in every sense of the word with all my vainest demons.

Will my husband stay with me or run off with the pretty receptionist who doesn’t have a moustache?

My Face Is so Disgusting

Not to mention my legs.

The cellulite.

Eugh.

I wish I could tell you that I enjoyed my ghastly reflection for what it was, set the whole place on fire, and then skipped merrily along without two cares in the world.

But I didn’t.

I wallowed.

And obsessed.

And relished.

It was like when you look at the sky at night and see a million stars, then look again and see two million, then again and this time for longer, and you realize that there’s actually hardly any sky at all – just a wimpy thin blanket thrown over an immeasurable infinity of celestial light.

That was me and my upper-most appendage as projected by that amplification apparatus – layers and layers of discovery lying in wait, just significantly less awe inspiring and substantially more troubling than the heavens.

Further still, to add sufficient insult to blunt-force injury, I went directly to town on de-constructing my dermal infrastructure for a solid half an hour  (or more – I deliberately avoided looking at the clock during this inquest) while my husband waited to brush his teeth (he was totally bushed and just wanted to go to bed, but I was fiendishly selfish in this exploit).

I picked, squeezed, scratched, stretched, plucked, pulled, distorted, and otherwise assaulted myself with brutal precision. I can report with scientifically conclusive evidence, this initiative did not improve the situation. At all.

The only consolation was a long motel shower with never ending hot water (which does, in fact, heal many hurts and mend many mistakes).

When I got out, the big eye was still watching me, but since it was fogged over with the steam, I easily turned my back on it, not noticing its chromy appeal, not caring one bit.

I vowed we were through, and we were.

The Beauty Mindset Gone Astray

Except for the part where I went back and did a bit more research and deep excavation. And a bit more. Just a couple more hairs. Just that spot there and the last one on my temple. And forehead.

The next morning, I embraced the long stretches of sunny, summer roads with a smattering of half moons stamped onto my cheeks and chin, where my fingernails had ruthlessly dug into my unsuspecting flesh.

Why do we subject ourselves to these things?

What are we looking to accomplish?

What fears are we hiding from?

The History of Mirrors

Perhaps the evolution of mirrors has always been a double edged sword – the implementation of such tools has allowed for us all to say the better to see you with my dear, but also Lord have mercy is that my face? in ever increasing degrees.

Where we may have originally used a serene pool of water to catch a gently undulating glimpse of ourselves, the first highly polished metal used by Egyptians to regard one’s visage must have come as a bit of a shock.

Versions of the first glass mirrors have been dated to as early as the first century AD, and I really feel for the folks who met their own surprising features for the first time in those new-fangled gadgets – hair raising in every sense of the word, I expect.

Barbie looking at her own reflection in waterFrom forgiving waters…

Egyptian Barbie looking into a bronze mirror

To technical advancement…

Fifties Barbie looking in a  mirror
To unbridled perfection – and scrutiny

So here we are today, and the modern mirror of magnification shines upon us with self destructive enlightenment.

My experience is just one in a long line of thousands of years and millions of people.

The Final Verdict for Magnified Mirrors

What to do?

Avoid.

I’m not fully prepared to be so contemporary.

I should like the closing of motel door #160 to mark the end of my brief romance with, but life-long divorce from, magnified mirrors.

If you have fallen victim to such vicious self flagellation, please, help yourself to some healing, hope filled hypnosis. It’s free

Tell me. Have you ever gone into the bathroom during a dinner date, ravaged your face by squeezing all your blackheads in the hideously lit mirror, and then had to (literally) face the consequences? Ever put on foundation at home that turned out to be all the wrong shade of orange in the work bathroom mirror? Ever had a terrible acid trip where you tried to remove your skin with needle-nose pliers?

What's Your Story? Button