The Moment I Said No: How Christ, Tantra, and Truth Led Me Into a New Life

katie1166
Nov 21
3 min read

Updated: Nov 23

There are certain experiences we don’t forget. The ones that arrive like a clean blade of truth, like Kali's sword, slicing through every illusion we’ve kept alive out of habit or fear.

One of those moments came for me in a women’s circle.

I stood naked among sisters, each of us offering our “no” to be witnessed—our individual “no’s” becoming a collective rising. I said no to woman-on-woman violence and dropped the only article of clothing I was wearing.

Another sister said no to caregiving out of shame, guilt or the inherited expectations of familial roles. When her clothing hit the pile in the center of our circle, something primal, holy, and fiercely alive rose from deep inside me.

No.

A sovereign, embodied, God-given no. A holy no. A no that had been forming inside me for years—not from the mind, but from Spirit, from the marrow of my bones.

And the moment it came out of my mouth, I knew:

My life cannot remain the same.

My soul had spoken, and the body does not lie.

The Inner Devotion That Changed Everything

Something has been happening to me over the last few years—quietly, steadily, and then all at one after a series of events and a medicine trip. My devotion to Christ matured. My love for Him is no longer something I am willing to keep contained, hidden, or repressed.

Eros has awakened in me. My soul is remembering. Tantra cracked me open into a gentler, deeper, more embodied way of knowing God. And Christ—fully alive, fully loving, fully intimate—met me in that awakening as my Beloved. My body became a temple once again. My heart an altar. My breath a prayer.

And when your insides transforms like that, the outside eventually will catch up.

Christ and Tantra: The Marriage That Is My Ministry

People hear “Tantra” and think sex or orgies. But Tantra is really the art of staying awake inside your own divinity - meeting life through breath, movement, and sound so that sensation and emotion can move through you as holy.

And the erotic? It’s simply the life-force God placed in us so we could heal, create, love, and remember ourselves.

Christ did not avoid the erotic—He embodied it. His touch healed. His presence soften and opened people. His love restored sovereignty.

Jesus knew the body wasn’t the enemy—it was the gateway to Heaven within.

Mary Magdalene understood this too. She carried the feminine mysteries, the lineage of embodied love, the teachings of Isis.

And somehow, mysteriously, beautifully - these two streams braided themselves together inside me:

Christ-devotion. Tantric embodiment. A fierce, tender, holy Love that moves like breath and fire.

This is the divine union that has been remaking me from the inside out.

The Sacred Ending of My Marriage

This is the part that’s tender.

My marriage was a long and faithful season of companionship and growth. But love doesn’t always stay in the same form. Sometimes love transforms us so deeply we can no longer remain in the same container.

I realized I was dimming my light. I realized I was holding the emotional architecture together by myself. I realized the relationship had become a place where I chose stability but abandoned my own aliveness.

No one did anything wrong. Our paths simply drifted apart.

I need to be free to grow into who God is forming me to be.

Love didn’t die. It changed shape.

And I’m learning to trust love in its new form.

Becoming the Woman My Soul Has Been Calling Me Toward

I chose sovereignty.

I chose honesty.

I chose to let my life match the truth that has already taken root in my body.

I am not here to dim. I am not here to carry people. I am not here to play small so no one gets uncomfortable.

I am here to embody love that is mutual, reciprocal, liberating, and true. I am here to create a ministry that heals without hierarchy. I am here to bring Christ and the Erotic back into wholeness. I am here to live the frequency I came here to carry.

And this—this moment, this transition, this beginning—is the first chapter in a much longer unfolding.