Religious trauma doesn't just affect your faith. It affects your ability to feel.

When right and wrong become the only lens we have, we lose access to something far more ancient — our body's direct relationship with life. Our empathy. Our creative essence. The part of us that knows before the mind has had a chance to decide.

This is what religious trauma quietly takes. And this is how we begin to take it back.

The feminine isn't a magic pill.

It won't make your world a better place just by ingesting it. It won't awaken something in you that wasn't already there. And no teacher — no matter how many modules they offer or how much they charge — can give you access to something that was never theirs to give.

Here's the thing they want you to pay 50k to learn:

The feminine is your ability to feel.

That's it. That's the whole teaching.

Hold the sensation. Don't label it. Get curious about it. And let your body lead you back to the creativity that was always yours.

One stroke at a time.

Most paths will teach you to open to feeling.

What they won't tell you is that they only want you to feel certain things.

The warmth on your skin — yes. The cold breeze — no thank you.

But the contrast is what makes us human. Not the binary of left or right, black or white — but the full spectrum of feeling everything. The warmth and the cold. The joy and the grief. The opening and the closing.

Your vulnerability isn't something to manage. It's the whole point.

And the one place where the world has always said yes to that — is when you pick up a pen.

When I didn't have words. Art gave me a space to place them. The puzzle pieces hidden behind words, that made no sense. It gave me a place to obliterate everything, that I was attempting to obliterate within myself, without causing harm onto others.

Art, being an artist, gives you a place to rehabilitate your soul.

My process these days, has been this gentle unveiling of all the ways I forget I'm brown.

Those differences, is why I make art. It's my rebirth, for me, Jessenia Nauta, but also, the ongoing inquiry of, what would come to be? If these pieces was given the solid attention they needed growing up?

My art, is a journey of curiosity. Of what if's. That feed my spirit daily, uplifts the voices that were pushed away, and an ongoing question of…. What …Who would show up in my place? When I gave the parts that were told to go away? A place to stand?

There is a big misbelief, that you need to stress yourself out, in order to be an artist.

Art is the expression of the human spirit. It's the process. The process of being human, that a brave few, enter, to reexpress through themselves, for literally the art of it.

That is what makes you an artist.

The First Iteration was never meant to be the final masterpiece. It was also never meant to be hated, brought guilt, pushed down, and thrown away like nothing. This is a letter about creative burnout, the fear of the first brush stroke — and why your First Iteration is still beaming into your soul, waiting for you to see it.

In a world consumed by AI and digital noise, what if the most radical act was simply enjoying life? A reflection on waking up the artist that lives inside all of us. By Jessenia Nauta | somaCREATIVE™

After a significant creative burnout in 2013 — my first staff job, right out of college, boundaries weren't something anyone taught — it's taken a decade of rebuilding my creative fire to arrive at what I'm here to share.

The number one way to resolve creative burnout is by building a deeply devotional commitment to your body. Through somatics. Not intensive yoga. Not climbing Kilimanjaro. Just bringing yourself with you as you create.

Here's what that actually looks like.

Spiritual loneliness isn't a sign that something is wrong with your connection — it's a sign that the connection is waiting to be honored. This post explores how somatics opens a doorway between your inner child and your Ancestors, and why your creativity is the key.

Creativity isn't a hobby — it's the blood that makes you human. A reflection on why reclaiming your creative life is an act of ancestral remembrance, and why the so-called minority is being called back into the majority.