Crow Eyes & Scarecrow Hearts: How I Learned to Trust Myself After False Light Burned Me

There’s a particular kind of wound that doesn’t bleed — it flickers.

A candle trying to decide if it still believes in light.

It’s the wound that comes not from betrayal in the dark,

but betrayal in the light.

From someone who spoke in sacred language,

who wore healing like a cloak,

who said, “Trust me.”

And I did.

And it cost me.

This is for those of you who’ve been spiritually misled, emotionally manipulated, or psychically hijacked — all in the name of “love and light.”

Because let’s be honest:

false light is louder than darkness.

It seduces.

It flatters.

It mirrors your longing back to you until you mistake it for belonging.

It bypasses your knowing and calls it “healing.”

It rewards compliance and calls it “alignment.”

It erases your intuition and calls it “surrender.”

And when it fails you — because it always does —you don’t just lose the mentor, the space, the relationship.

You lose your compass.

You lose the bridge between your gut and your grace.

You start doubting the very instrument that was trying to save you all along.

I know what it’s like to overthink every gut feeling.

To scan every smile for sharp edges.

To hear the word “alignment” and brace for impact.

To wonder if my boundaries made me “unhealed.”

But I also know what it’s like to come home to my own signal.

To remember that discernment is devotion — not distrust.

To rebuild trust not with others, but with myself.

Because the truth is, the more you trust your own knowing,

the less permission you need to protect your peace.

I’ve stopped apologizing for my sacred rage.

It’s not a tantrum — it’s my truth refusing to be gaslit.

I’ve stopped explaining my discernment.

It’s not judgment — it’s reverence for what’s real.

I’ve stopped calling my intuition “too much.”

It’s not intensity — it’s intimacy with the divine.

And here’s the quiet revolution I learned in the rubble:

I don’t need to be believed to be correct.

I don’t need permission to walk away.

And I will never again silence my inner crow just because someone else showed up in white.

If you’re reclaiming your clarity after being groomed by someone who claimed to be holy…If you’re grieving the version of you who used to chase angels…

If you’re learning to listen to the part of you that sees through the shine…

Welcome home.

You are not broken — you’re breaking free.

You are not faithless — you are finally faithful to yourself.

And you are not too much — you were simply made to see what others pretend not to.

🖤

Kavi Apoha

Where the shadows have snacks, and the soul has sovereignty.