GLITTER GUIDE: 5 AFFIRMATIONS FOR A BITCHY & GORGEOUS 2025

GET ON THE F*CKING STAGE.

Kittens, we've almost made it! WE’RE ALMOST AT 2025.

If I’ve learned ~anything~ in 2024 it’s this: I can’t control what the hell happens in this wild, WICKED world. All I can control is my mindset. My habits. My self-worth. Where I direct my energy.

This is why—for yours truly—2025 is ALL about building a strong foundation inside of myself so that way when the big, bad wolf comes to blow down my house—his efforts of destruction will be rendered fruitless. Nobody can tear down your confidence if you’ve built it with your own two hands—can they, my dear? Not even a sadistic wolf who enjoys snacking on pretty, pretty pink piglets.

But I’ve also learned (the hard way) that what’s broken doesn’t magically fix itself. So many times in life I’ve been like “I will absolutely wake up one day the woman I long to be! It’s just going to HAPPEN.”

But it’s not going to just HAPPEN. A shattered glass coffee table will remain a shattered glass coffee table until its dutiful owner constructs a plan to piece it back together, right?

Shattered self-esteem will not transform itself into fierce confidence unless its dutiful owner is willing to make the changes that will lead to transformation.

This is why it’s wildly, wildly important to me—that I, Zara Barrie, the first girl in her class to grow tits and the last to get her driver’s license—sets some very specific intentions/positive affirmations for 2025.

As a girl who’s been diagnosed with ADHD since the age of six (teachers were always finding me daydreaming on swing sets long after recess was over), I tend to get lost in the shiny vapid things if I don’t have an organized list in front of my eyes. A list anchors my scatterbrain.

And because I’m your lesbian big sister who heals and navigates her way through the wild nuances of life alongside you — I just knew I had to share my positive affirmation list with you.

So here goes, babe.

AFFIRMATION 1: FEELING GOOD IS MY BIRTHRIGHT.

In 2025 I will give myself permission to feel GOOD because feeling GOOD is my birthright. For far too many years I’ve convinced myself that unless I’ve achieved something major—unless I’ve suffered for my art—unless I’ve run till I scorched six hundred calories, unless I’ve received recognition and accolades for my work—I do not deserve to feel good.

No. No! I must feel anxious and spiral-y until I’ve checked the achievement off box (which is empty, btw).

But guess what?

I have checked a lot of “achievements” off of sad little boxes throughout the great expanse of my life. Only to still feel paralyzed by the wicked fear of the future.

So what’s the point?

The point is there is no point.

So I’m hopping off this pain train — for it’s not leading me anywhere beautiful. I am allowed to feel good whenever I damn feel like it. I don’t need to earn it. The whole point of being ~alive~ is to feel good. And you know what? It might sound woo-woo but let’s get witchy for a hot second, okay?

The universe responds to the way you feel, not the way you think.

If I want good things to come my way I must focus on feeling good. Writing lists of what I wish to manifest in this lifetime doesn’t mean shit if my baseline emotions are “afraid” and “worthless.”

So it’s time for me to give myself permission to feel good unconditionally. Screw the job! Screw the career goals! In 2025 I will direct my energy toward doing things that make me light up like a Vegas casino! And I will trust that the universe is guiding me toward something magical.

All this worrying hasn’t led me anywhere. So let’s stop aging ourselves and enjoy the goddamn ride, Zara.

AFFIRMATION 2: CONNECTION IS MY GREATEST MUSE.

In 2025 I will scroll less and connect more. Did you know that the average person scrolls three hundred feet a day? Did you know that is the same size as the Statue of Liberty?

Have you seen Lady Liberty?

She big, girl.

I don’t get anything of value out of mindlessly scrolling. All scrolling does is make me feel deeply ashamed over how unsuccessful and vile-looking I am. That or it renders me depressed and hopeless about the withering state of the sane world. On a particularly dull scroll, it’ll simply make me numb.

And is there anything worse than being dead inside? There isn’t.

But you know what makes me feel fulfilled and confident and ready to create? Spending time with my greatest muse: CONNECTION.

When I connect with my readers, my friends, my family, my pets, a stranger at the bodega, a beautiful piece of writing, a song that sends chills galloping down my spine, a gorgeous piece of food — I feel alive as fuck. I feel inspired. I feel hopeful.

I remember what truly matters: Humanity, bitch. H-u-m-a-n-i-t-y.

AFFIRMATION 3: I INVOKE DANGEROUS EMOTION.

I’ve been in some form of creative industry most of my life and I truly love it. I hear people blather on and on about how shitty it is to be a professional creative, but most of those people bitching on Facebook have never taken a real stab at it. It’s harrowing and intense and competitive, but it’s an amazing life-choice for the ~truly~ passionate.

However.

One way the industry can zap the creative energy out of your colorful mind is by forcing you to bend your limbs fit inside a stifling little shoebox.

SELF-HELP WRITER. SEX & DATING WRITER. INTELLECT. HUMORIST. SPIRITUAL. PARTY GIRL. GAY.

What if none of those categories feel right to you? What if I feel I do my best, most hard-hitting work when I’m free to be crass, soulful, wildly-inappropriate, sexy, intellectual, hard-partying, and fucking spiritual?

What if instead of worrying about where I “fit in” — I decided to celebrate that I don’t. And what if instead of freaking out about how to categorize myself, I channeled all that wasted energy into creating the most fiery, electric content I’ve ever created?

What if I said “FUCK IT” and just started going for it, without worrying about the result? I don’t know. But I want to try. Because when I look back at every writer and poet and musician and artist I admire—all of them are too BIG for shoeboxes too.

To be extraordinary is to be different. Safe & neatly packaged is nice and all, but I’m not interested in being nice. I want to make people feel things. I want to invoke dangerous emotion. And one can not invoke dangerous emotion if one plays it safe.

AFFIRMATION 4: I BELONG ON THE FUCKING STAGE.

In 2025 I’m going to STOP putting shit off until I’ve reached some ridiculous, unreal standard of “beauty.”

“OH, I can’t do an Instagram Live this week my face is too puffy.”

“OH, I can’t send that audition tape in, my performance was great, but I’m TOO UGLY TO EVER GET THE GIG! I’ll redo it when I’m PRETTY in a few weeks.”

“OH, I can’t have sex tonight babe, I AM BLOATED.”

“OH, I can’t live my life to its fullest and take risks and put myself out there or do anything UNTIL I LIKE THE WAY I LOOK.”

I’m so sick and tired of NOT DOING THE DAMN THING because I don’t like THE DAMN WAY I LOOK.

When really, no one cares what I look like. I don’t even care what I look like—I think I use not being physically “perfect” (whatever that means) as a cop-out. As a way to avoid feeling the burn of rejection. As a way to hide.

But I’m not happy in hiding. I was born to shine! You were born to shine! Let’s shine, honeys!

Because outer “beauty” actually doesn’t mean anything. It has nothing to do with your talent, your work ethic, or how interesting you are.

So let’s throw the sheets off our imperfect limbs and get on the fucking stage, bitches!

AFFIRMATION 5: I HAVE THE POWER TO AVOID WHAT STOPS THE SPARKLE FROM BURNING BRIGHT.

My sparkle is my essence, my creativity, the wise witch inside of me that makes magical shit happen.

My sparkle is my higher self, the energy force that magnetizes me toward a beautiful and meaningful existence.

My sparkle is what makes me, me.

Without my sparkle, I’m dull, lost, numb, directionless.

I have a massive natural sparkle (as do you, darling) but sometimes I mattify my own shine by drinking too much alcohol or by hanging around people who sound off my girl alarms or by getting caught up in a nasty, jealous narrative or by self-medicating with Xanax and reality TV instead of feeling my feelings.

I need my sparkle more than ever after a sort of sparkle-less year.

And I have the power to avoid what stops the sparkle from burning BRIGHT.

I have the choice to dive into the things that actually add to her fabulous glimmer: making things, reading books, being active, being honest, connecting with others, writing, drawing, laughing, and day-dreaming.

So. Tell me. What are your 2024 affirmations?

And if you want to set yourself up for a MAGICAL AF 2025—book a one-on-one life-coaching session with me!