The peacemaker. The golden child. The one who makes people laugh. And then, there’s the black sheep.
For as long as I can remember, that’s been me. At first, being the black sheep felt like rejection. Over time, I’ve learned it’s been one of my greatest teachers — even my blueprint.
I can still feel the sting of certain memories:
These moments left me with a deep sense of being “other.” Always in the room, never at the table. Always loved, but not fully seen.
For years, I also carried the weight of feeling physically different. At one point, I weighed 260 pounds before my gastric sleeve. My family never said anything cruel, but I felt the subtle differences in how I was treated. My body became another layer of separation, another reminder that I didn’t quite belong.
After my mom passed in 2015, I longed for my dad’s approval even more. I thought if I achieved enough — earned a Master’s, maybe a Doctorate, bought the right house, married the right partner, raised perfect kids — maybe then I’d finally be enough.
It took me years to realize that his lack of emotional availability wasn’t a reflection of my worth. It was his limitation, not my failure. But in the meantime, that pursuit of proving shaped me into someone deeply resilient, ambitious, and willing to push against limits.
Being the black sheep eventually showed up in my career choices. Nursing was safe, structured, respected — and yet I still broke away.
Leaving to build something of my own felt scary, but also “on brand” for me. It was another moment of forging my own path, even while worrying what others might think — including Matt, my kids, and my wider circle.
And yet, soulpreneurship is exactly where the black sheep belongs: outside the herd, leading differently, trusting resonance over approval.
Being the black sheep comes with heavy shadows:
Sometimes these shadows still show up. But now, I notice them. I don’t let them define me.
What once felt like rejection, I now see as preparation:
Being the black sheep isn’t about being “difficult.” It’s about being designed to live outside the mold, and to help others question theirs, too.
I no longer see being the black sheep as a flaw. I see it as part of my design — my Aquarian rebellion, my Projector clarity, my neurodivergent wiring, my soul path.
We are all built uniquely. For me, being misunderstood was the very thing that made me a guide, a creator, a truth-teller. For you, your blueprint might show up differently — but it’s no less valuable.
If you’ve ever felt like the black sheep, know this: you are not broken. You are not less. You carry a perspective the world needs.
What once felt like rejection may actually be your greatest gift. The black sheep isn’t an outcast. It’s a leader in the making.
Curious about uncovering your own blueprint? I’ve created a simple quiz to help you explore your soul path, life path number, and unique gifts. Take the quiz here (coming soon).
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August 15, 2025
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