Killing Sacred Cows
Here I am, sitting at my computer, knowing exactly what Spirit has been asking of me yet again.
And still, there is fear.
Fear of really jumping into it. Fear of letting go. Fear of missing out.
For a while now, I haven’t been posting much. Truthfully, I haven’t been on social media much at all. And yet, some part of me still holds onto it as a creative outlet—a place where I can share my story, share what I’m learning, and hopefully inspire someone else to make positive changes in their own life.
But I think I’m finally seeing the deeper truth.
Sometimes the things we hold onto because they once served us become the very things that drain us.
And sometimes, we have to kill a sacred cow.
A sacred cow is something we have given significance to. Something we’ve poured time, energy, identity, creativity, or even devotion into. Something we know, deep down, that we may no longer need—but there is still an energetic attachment to it.
And that attachment can be enough to keep us tethered.
For me, right now, that sacred cow is Instagram.
I've spent countless hours creating posts, sharing pieces of my life, trying to understand algorithms, wondering who is seeing what I create, and feeling the subtle pressure to keep showing up.
Even when I wasn’t actively using it, there was still energy attached to it.
And I’m tired of giving my energy away simply because I’m afraid of what might happen if I stop.
So here it goes.
I’m writing this down to be witnessed.
To hold myself accountable.
As of October 1st, I will be saying goodbye to Instagram for good.
Not taking a break.
Not deleting it for a month.
Not waiting to see if I change my mind.
Goodbye.
All of that time, energy, and creativity I have poured into that space will be lovingly slaughtered and sent into the next realm.
And honestly?
It feels freeing.
Facebook is coming to a close too, although I’m giving myself a little more grace there. I still find value in the homeschool groups I’m part of, and for now, I want to maintain that connection.
But I have a marker in the sand.
Once I reach what feels like a small but meaningful community for my work—around 300 people subscribed to my newsletter—I’ll be stepping away from Facebook too.
And that is the part I really want to witness.
Because this isn't just about what I'm stopping.
It's about what I'm choosing instead.
I am choosing my website.
I am choosing long-form writing.
I am choosing creativity that doesn't have to fit inside an algorithm.
I am choosing to create because I have something to say—not because I need to feed a platform.
I am choosing deeper connection over constant visibility.
And perhaps most importantly, I am choosing to trust.
Trust that the people who are meant to find my work will find it.
Trust that I don't have to chase every possible pair of eyes.
Trust that I don't have to constantly put myself in front of people to be seen.
I can create.
I can share.
I can tend to my little corner of the internet like a garden.
And then I can let Spirit decide who finds their way there.
That feels like a different kind of business.
A different kind of creativity.
A different kind of life.
So, my loves, if you've made it this far and you want to stay connected to my journey, I would love for you to come with me.
Subscribe to my website and newsletter.
This is where I’ll be pouring my love, my stories, my lessons, my creativity, and whatever else is asking to move through me.
And if you’re feeling the pull to examine your own sacred cows, maybe this is your invitation too.
What are you still giving energy to simply because you're afraid to let it go?
What are you maintaining because you’re afraid of missing out?
What would become possible if you took all of that energy back?
Maybe it’s time to kill the cow.
With love.
With gratitude for what it gave us.
And with trust for whatever comes next.
Here’s to releasing what no longer serves us—and making room for what does.
See you on the other side.
In Peace, Love and Service,
Rebecca