I was 20 years into a corporate marketing career, and I’d started a leadership role with a new company which was paying more than I’d ever earned before. But I felt lost and miserable. I’d gone into my new job feeling optimistic, but quickly found it to be a toxic work environment where male leadership was domineering and belittling, and female team members struggled to make their voices heard, and support or defend one another. With each passing day, I felt more and more like a shadow of myself.

As the months crawled by, I woke each morning with a deepening feeling of dread in my solar plexus. I began avoiding interactions with my boss (the male CEO) and with certain male colleagues. I started doubting my own ideas and abilities. I nervously stumbled or sped through my presentations, losing my breath and missing important points. And perhaps most upsetting of all, I found my friendship with a close female team member deteriorating as a result of the divisive and disempowering culture. I felt increasingly alone.

My weight plummeted as I physically minimised myself with unhealthy eating patterns. And despite taking home the biggest paycheck of my career to date, I was no richer. As fast as the money came in it disappeared with little to show for it, as I frittered it away on insignificant purchases, trying to self-soothe and fill the emptiness I felt inside.

One day, while making a suggestion in a leadership team meeting (I was the only woman present), the CEO cut me off mid-sentence to tell me in front of everyone that I had a “non-point”, shutting me down completely. Moments later a male colleague echoed my own suggestion and was praised for it.

I’d reached the limit of my endurance. We were on Zoom – I turned off my camera so the team wouldn’t see a tear silently stream down my face, and I just sat and cried. I wanted to feel angry and stand my ground, but I‘d been worn down, and instead I just felt humiliated, silenced and defeated. My confidence was through the floor. I'd reached a point where barely recognised myself.

That night after work I turned to my tarot deck for guidance. Growing up I'd learned tarot from my mother, but my beloved deck had gone mostly untouched for years while I grappled with the demands of a career that felt devoid of passion and purpose. This night, I felt a sudden urgency to reconnect with my wildness, my weirdness, my gifts, my MAGIC! It had been too long. Even just placing my hands on the cards I felt a surge of long-lost power, as if returning home to myself.