Reverse Engineering Myself

Lately, I’ve been fascinated by the things I know to be true. Or rather — the things I thought were true.

The older I get, the more I realize how many of those “truths” were inherited — absorbed through osmosis from the world around me.

I’m not interested in resolutions. I’m interested in revelations.

Family. School. Church. Marriage. Media.
Patriarchy disguised as common sense.

I’ve been zooming out — tossing the myopic lens suction-cupped to my face — and really looking at the systems we swim in: how story, culture, and conditioning shape what we believe to be “normal.”

How does story X tie directly to misogyny?
How baked into our systems — our knowing — is patriarchy?
Why do we call rest laziness, softness weakness, or anger unbecoming?

When did “toxic positivity” become a virtue instead of a warning sign?
And who benefits when we stop asking questions?

And then there’s this: who decides the rules?
Who gets to define what is polite?
What is “nice”?
Why are we raised on shoulds instead of wants?

Why does choosing what is generally considered right so often make us feel like it’s wrong?

These aren’t just philosophical curiosities — they’re the scaffolding of control — tiny invisible permissions that keep whole generations of women quiet, pleasant, and conveniently self-policing.

Somewhere along the way, I stumbled upon the idea of a reverse bucket list — a ritual of release, not acquisition.

Instead of chasing more, you name what no longer fits.
What you’re ready to return to the compost heap of your own evolution.

It made me wonder: how much unhappiness is born from attachment — to ideas, to outcomes, to the illusion of control?

The deeper I dig, the clearer it becomes: change doesn’t flow from the top down. It rises from the bottom up.

And always — always — follow the money. Follow the benefit. The power.
That trail tells the truest story.

Maybe I’m The Contrarian Crone. If questioning the script makes me difficult, so be it. I’d rather be awake than agreeable.

It’s clear-eyed truth.

To see the system isn’t to drown in it.
It’s to name the water — so we can finally learn how to swim differently.

So I’m beginning again.
Reverse-engineering my beliefs.
Tracing my biases back to their origins.
Undoing what was never mine.

Not to erase who I was, but to show up clearer for who I’m becoming.

We’re not here to keep performing borrowed beliefs. We’re here to rewrite the code.
Every time you name what was never yours, you reclaim the pen — and your power.

May I unlearn with reverence. May I remember with fire.

* Relevance. Ritual. Rebellion. *

Journal prompt: Tonight’s full moon is the burning kind. Make your reverse bucket list: name three things — beliefs, habits, or expectations — you’re ready to return to the earth. Burn them, bury them, or simply breathe them out. Make room for what’s truer.

Thanks for being here. If this landed, tap the heart, or pass it to a woman who’s ready to trace an inherited “truth” back to whoever it actually serves.