Susie Adcock - QHHT 2 Practitioner, Intuitive

10/11/2026

Most People Never Meet Her

There's a version of you that doesn't need anyone to understand her.

Most people never meet her.

I did.

Because at some point, you just get tired. Tired of explaining what you know. Defending what you feel. Proving what you've lived. Begging people to see you the way you see yourself.

And then something shifts.

You realize the deepest part of you was never waiting for permission. Your Higher Self has been speaking all along. Your intuition has been speaking. God has been speaking through that place inside you that knows before your mind can explain why.

Once I started trusting that place, I stopped trying to convince people. I started listening instead.

I stopped needing an apology before I could have peace. I stopped needing someone to understand my heart before I trusted my own. I stopped looking around to see who was coming with me.

I just knew.

And that kind of knowing doesn't need an audience.

I don't have to convince anybody I've awakened. I don't have to prove how far I've come.

My life speaks for me.

My choices shift. My circle shifts. What I tolerate shifts. And all that energy I used to burn trying to be understood? It comes back to me.

I got my time back. My peace back. Myself back.

Maybe the highest vibration isn't feeling good all the time. Maybe it's getting so rooted in the truth inside you that you stop handing your knowing over to everyone else.

Because the Divine isn't somewhere you have to reach.

You've been carrying it the whole time.

And that's when you become the confirmation you were looking for.

This is a conversation, not a lecture. So tell me—where are you in this? I'd love to hear it.

Love always,
Susie
www.susieadcock.com

10/04/2026

✨ 𝗪𝗛𝗔𝗧 𝗪𝗘 𝗖𝗔𝗥𝗥𝗬 𝗜𝗡 𝗦𝗜𝗟𝗘𝗡𝗖𝗘 ✨

When we ignore our pain, it doesn't go away. It stays with us, hidden just below the surface, quietly shaping our decisions, our relationships, and how we see the world.

This emotional pain can even show up as physical pain in our bodies. And often, only then—when it becomes something we can't ignore—do we start looking for answers. We look outside ourselves, to people, situations, or quick distractions, to fix something that only we can truly heal from within.

This search wears us out. We chase love, approval, or validation, hoping it will fill the empty spaces inside. But the more we try to fix our inner wounds through outside sources, the more life seems to throw back rejection, abandonment, and a feeling of never being enough.

Without realizing it, we make the very thing we're running from even stronger. It's like the world becomes a mirror showing us our unhealed parts, confirming the story our pain has been telling us all along.

💜 The cycle keeps going when we refuse to feel what's asking to be felt. When we sit with our own pain—gently and without judgment—we start to break free.

Honoring our pain doesn't mean letting it take over. It means giving it room to breathe so it doesn't have to demand our attention anymore.

As we face the discomfort with kindness, something shifts. The urge to search for answers outside ourselves starts to fade. We begin to see that the healing we've been looking for was inside us all along—waiting for us to slow down and listen.

In that moment, the story of not being enough, of rejection and abandonment, starts to lose its power over us.

𝗛𝗲𝗮𝗹𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝗱𝗼𝗲𝘀𝗻'𝘁 𝘀𝘁𝗮𝗿𝘁 𝘄𝗶𝘁𝗵 𝗳𝗶𝘅𝗶𝗻𝗴. 𝗜𝘁 𝘀𝘁𝗮𝗿𝘁𝘀 𝘄𝗶𝘁𝗵 𝗳𝗮𝗰𝗶𝗻𝗴.

When we truly see and honor our own wounds, we stop looking to the world to prove our pain—and instead, we start living in a way that proves our wholeness.

I've seen this work firsthand through EFT—Emotional Freedom Technique. It's a gentle way to bring buried pain to the surface so we can finally look at it honestly. I teach classes in it, and I'd be glad to sit with you if you'd like a session. You don't have to do this alone.

📖 𝗥𝗘𝗙𝗟𝗘𝗖𝗧𝗜𝗢𝗡 𝗣𝗥𝗢𝗠𝗣𝗧

Find a quiet moment. Grab your journal. Ask yourself: What pain have I been avoiding or trying to soothe through others? Write about how it shows up in my relationships and choices.

💬 Have you ever found that slowing down and listening to yourself changed something? I’d love to hear your thoughts in the comments. 💜

Love Always,
Susie
www.susieadcock.com

09/27/2026

✨ MAYBE IT’S NOT ABOUT BECOMING MORE SPIRITUAL ✨

I’ve noticed something over the years.

When I talk about “carrying more light,” I don’t mean anything mystical. I just mean moving through life in a way that leaves people feeling a little more at peace, not more unsettled.

Maybe that isn’t about becoming more spiritual. Maybe it’s just about becoming more loving. 💜

And not the kind of love I used to think it was.

For a long time, I thought love meant sacrificing myself to keep everyone else comfortable. Fixing people. Carrying their pain. Smoothing over everything so no one had to feel uncomfortable. I think a lot of us have confused that with love. I know I did.

But real love looks different. It lets people have their own journey. It doesn’t try to rush anyone awake. It doesn’t argue with where someone is. It doesn’t need everyone to understand us or agree with us.

When we’re still carrying our own wounds, we react to everything. We take things personally. We defend, we convince, we try to change minds. Before we know it, we’re tangled up in someone else’s emotions — and we didn’t even see it happen.

But as we heal, something loosens. 🌿

I learned this the hard way with a client once.

She was doing well — really well — until we started going deeper. And then she fought me. Not gently, either. She became volatile, angry, and the last session felt like a battle. I kept thinking I could find the right approach, the right words, the right way in.

Eventually I had to admit something I didn’t want to admit: I wasn’t the right person for her. That stung. It made me feel inadequate, like I’d failed her.

But here’s what I know now. I knew from the very beginning she would be a difficult case. And it wasn’t because she couldn’t heal. It’s that she didn’t want to. She wanted everyone around her to change to fit her needs. That’s a different thing entirely.

Stepping back wasn’t giving up on her. It was the most honest thing I could do — for both of us.

There’s a freedom that shows up when we stop trying to manage everyone else’s experience and start taking care of our own.

I’ve come to believe that one of the greatest gifts we can give another person isn’t our advice. It isn’t our ability to fix them. It’s our presence.

Someone whose calm you can feel before they even speak. Someone who listens without judgment, speaks with kindness, and doesn’t pour more chaos into an already chaotic world. 🕊️

Maybe that’s what it’s all been trying to teach us. Not how to escape the world. Not how to separate ourselves from people who think differently. But how to walk through it with an open heart, clear boundaries, and a peace that doesn’t depend on what everyone else is doing.

And maybe... that’s what carrying more light actually looks like. ✨

If any of this is resonating with you, I’d love to hear from you. If you just want to talk, I’m here. And if you’re wanting to go deeper, come join us in a class.

I’m a Naturopathic Doctor and spiritual therapist, and I also do QHHT hypnosis — one of the most beautiful ways I’ve found to help people reach the parts of themselves that need healing. But most of the work is just meeting people where they are, at the level of their own comfort.

You can find me at www.susieadcock.com — reach out anytime.

Love Always,
Susie 💜
www.susieadcock.com

09/20/2026

🌿 𝗪𝗛𝗔𝗧 𝗗𝗢𝗘𝗦 𝗦𝗧𝗥𝗢𝗡𝗚 𝗠𝗘𝗔𝗡 𝗧𝗢 𝗬𝗢𝗨?

𝘙𝘦𝘧𝘭𝘦𝘤𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯𝘴 𝘰𝘯 𝘵𝘸𝘰 𝘸𝘰𝘮𝘦𝘯, 𝘴𝘪𝘹 𝘷𝘰𝘪𝘤𝘦𝘴, 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘰𝘯𝘦 𝘲𝘶𝘦𝘴𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯 𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘵𝘩 𝘢𝘴𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘨.

In recent weeks, we lost two women whose strength shaped generations—Dolly Parton and Gloria Steinem.

Dolly disarmed with a laugh.

Gloria demanded with a stare.

Both were strong. Neither apologized for how she held her ground.

People may say, “Well, I didn’t like Dolly Parton’s music.”

You didn’t have to like her music. I liked what she stood for—how she answered questions, how she didn’t demand her way, but she didn’t give up her dignity either.

Gloria Steinem—I grew up in that era of burning the bra and fighting for equal pay for women. It was a tough climb up the ladder. Edgy. Gritty. And for some, she was a leader.

𝗧𝘄𝗼 𝘄𝗼𝗺𝗲𝗻. 𝗧𝘄𝗼 𝗸𝗶𝗻𝗱𝘀 𝗼𝗳 𝘀𝘁𝗿𝗲𝗻𝗴𝘁𝗵. 𝗕𝗼𝘁𝗵 𝗿𝗲𝗮𝗹.

Their passing got me thinking about a question I’ve been carrying:

✨ 𝗪𝗵𝗮𝘁 𝗱𝗼𝗲𝘀 𝗶𝘁 𝗮𝗰𝘁𝘂𝗮𝗹𝗹𝘆 𝗺𝗲𝗮𝗻 𝘁𝗼 𝗯𝗲 𝘀𝘁𝗿𝗼𝗻𝗴?

I asked six women in a class I held recently. Every answer was different.

Most said strength meant protecting their family. One said it meant going within and living her truth.

I asked my husband, and after a long pause, he said it was the person on the front line, leading others.

𝗢𝗻𝗲 𝘄𝗼𝗿𝗱. 𝗦𝗼 𝗺𝗮𝗻𝘆 𝗺𝗲𝗮𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀.

For me, strength is standing in my resolve and not letting people or fear sway me. It’s knowing what’s true inside me and refusing to abandon it.

Has it always been that way? No!

But as wisdom moved in and I started wondering who I wanted to be, the answer came back:

✨ 𝗝𝗨𝗦𝗧 𝗠𝗘. ✨

In my late 40s, I decided to go back to college and become a Naturopathic Doctor.

I got flack from everyone.

They said I should be working toward retirement, not a new career. I wouldn’t make any money. People wouldn’t go to an older doctor.

My resolve was simple: I wanted to help people in a more natural way.

I gave up weekends for papers instead of parties. I gave up making dinners and time with my family to write those papers.

But I was being true to myself.

I graduated with honors, but I still felt the sting of their unspoken question:

“Why is she doing this?”

𝗦𝘁𝗿𝗲𝗻𝗴𝘁𝗵 𝗱𝗼𝗲𝘀𝗻’𝘁 𝗺𝗲𝗮𝗻 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝘀𝘁𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝗴𝗼𝗲𝘀 𝗮𝘄𝗮𝘆.
𝗜𝘁 𝗺𝗲𝗮𝗻𝘀 𝘆𝗼𝘂 𝗸𝗲𝗲𝗽 𝘀𝘁𝗮𝗻𝗱𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝗮𝗻𝘆𝘄𝗮𝘆.

So I learned how to stand in the face of adversity. How to stay kind and still get ticked off when someone challenges a belief.

I didn’t have to show it. I just had the right to feel it.

Most of all, I learned that strength was never about popularity.

𝗜𝘁 𝘄𝗮𝘀 𝗮𝗯𝗼𝘂𝘁 𝗹𝗶𝘃𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝗺𝘆 𝘁𝗿𝘂𝘁𝗵.

I fell somewhere between Dolly and Gloria.

We sometimes rank these different kinds of strength.

We shouldn’t.

That’s mine—but I don’t think there’s only one answer.

So I’ll ask you:

🌿 What does being strong mean to you?

Is it protecting?

Leading?

Enduring?

Speaking?

Staying soft when the world says to harden?

Going quiet and listening to yourself?

There’s no wrong answer.

𝗦𝘁𝗿𝗲𝗻𝗴𝘁𝗵 𝘄𝗲𝗮𝗿𝘀 𝗺𝗮𝗻𝘆 𝗳𝗮𝗰𝗲𝘀—and yours deserves to be heard.

Share it. Say it out loud.

Your strength might be the permission someone else is waiting for.

In memory of Dolly Parton and Gloria Steinem, who showed us that there is more than one way to be strong. 💜

Love always,
Susie ❤️

www.susieadcock.com

09/14/2026

🎈This is my birthday week. I am so blessed I want to pay something forward. Just go to my website and pick the service of interest in contact me. I’m looking forward to meeting you all. 🎂

09/13/2026

✨ POPULARITY ISN’T ALIGNMENT ✨

I used to think that if someone had enough credentials, a big following, or enough people vouching for them, they must be legitimate.

I’ve learned the hard way that’s not always true.

And lately? I’m seeing more and more people coming to that same realization. It feels like a collective exhale.

But it made me start wondering:

Why did we give away our power in the first place?

Why do we hand our trust to people we’ve never even met?

Why does a follower count make us assume someone has answers we don’t?

Honestly? I think a lot of it comes down to FOMO—fear of missing out.

We see everyone flocking to someone, and we get scared we’ll miss the thing that could change our lives.

So we follow.
We buy.
We sign up.

We hand over our discernment without even realizing we’re doing it.

But here’s what I’m starting to see shift:

More people are becoming selective about who they let into their lives—who they learn from, who they work with, and who they trust.

And this isn’t about judging anyone as “bad” or “wrong.” It’s about discernment.

There’s a big difference between saying:

❌ “That person is a fraud.”

and

✅ “That person isn’t for me.”

One closes doors. The other simply helps you choose which ones to walk through.

People are looking closer now—not to find fault, but to find truth.

They’re paying attention to:

✨ How someone makes them feel
✨ Whether they actually walk their talk
✨ Whether the relationship lifts them up
✨ Or whether it makes them feel as though they need to be saved

Popularity and alignment are two different things.

The person everyone is raving about might be perfect for you—or they might not be.

And that random person you’ve never heard of? They might be the one who helps you see something you couldn’t see before.

No judgment either way—just what fits.

I understand. The FOMO is real. I’ve felt it too.

But every time I’ve chosen out of fear of missing out, I’ve ended up feeling more disconnected from myself.

And every time I’ve chosen what felt aligned—even when no one else was talking about that person—I’ve felt more grounded.

So now I ask different questions:

🌿 Does this resonate with me?
🌿 Can I be myself here?
🌿 Am I being encouraged to trust my own instincts?
🌿 Does this person actually live what they teach?
🌿 Am I walking away feeling more like myself—or less?

Those questions don’t judge anyone.

They simply guide me home to myself.

That’s not cynicism. That’s discernment.

And learning to discern who gets your time, energy, money, trust, and attention?

That’s a big part of waking up.

Because at the end of the day, it’s not about finding the right person to follow.

It’s about getting better at hearing your own voice.

I’d love to keep this conversation going with you.

This is actually something I teach in my classes—the difference between discernment and judgment, and how to trust yourself again.

All are welcome, always. 💜

If this resonated, drop a comment or send me a message. I’d love to hear where you are with this.

And if this landed, a like or share helps the algorithms do their thing. ✨

Love always,
Susie ❤️

www.susieadcock.com

09/06/2026

✨ 𝗧𝗥𝗨𝗦𝗧𝗜𝗡𝗚 𝗬𝗢𝗨𝗥 𝗢𝗪𝗡 𝗞𝗡𝗢𝗪𝗜𝗡𝗚 ✨

Have you ever felt something was off—and then talked yourself out of it?

I have. More times than I’d like to admit.

I used to think discernment was about figuring other people out, but now I’m not so sure.

I think it’s really about learning to read my own signals—knowing which ones are mine and which ones were imprinted on me a long time ago.

Here’s what keeps happening:

I’ll feel something is off, and I’ll talk myself right out of it.

“You’re overthinking.”

“Give them room.”

“You don’t have all the facts.”

And sometimes that’s true.

But other times?

𝗜𝘁’𝘀 𝗻𝗼𝘁 𝗼𝘃𝗲𝗿𝘁𝗵𝗶𝗻𝗸𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝗮𝘁 𝗮𝗹𝗹. 𝗜𝘁’𝘀 𝗼𝘃𝗲𝗿-𝗰𝗼𝗺𝗽𝗮𝘀𝘀𝗶𝗼𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴—giving so much room to others that I forget to trust myself.

💫 𝗖𝗼𝗺𝗽𝗮𝘀𝘀𝗶𝗼𝗻 𝘄𝗶𝘁𝗵𝗼𝘂𝘁 𝗱𝗶𝘀𝗰𝗲𝗿𝗻𝗺𝗲𝗻𝘁 𝗶𝘀 𝗷𝘂𝘀𝘁 𝗽𝗲𝗼𝗽𝗹𝗲-𝗽𝗹𝗲𝗮𝘀𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝘄𝗶𝘁𝗵 𝗮 𝗵𝗮𝗹𝗼.

Not every pinch in my chest is wisdom. Sometimes it’s just an old bruise getting pressed.

Sometimes someone reminds me of a person from years back, and I’m not even responding to them anymore—I’m responding to a memory that hasn’t quite finished with me.

So I’m learning to slow down.

𝗡𝗼𝘁 𝘁𝗼 𝗷𝘂𝗱𝗴𝗲 𝗳𝗮𝘀𝘁𝗲𝗿, 𝗯𝘂𝘁 𝘁𝗼 𝗴𝗲𝘁 𝗰𝘂𝗿𝗶𝗼𝘂𝘀.

Instead of asking, “Can I trust this?” I’ve started asking:

💭 “What is this feeling trying to show me?”

Sometimes it’s pointing at real behavior worth paying attention to.

Other times, it’s pointing at a fear I haven’t named or a story I haven’t closed.

𝗕𝗼𝘁𝗵 𝗺𝗮𝘁𝘁𝗲𝗿.

Here’s what I’ve come to hold as a ground rule:

𝗜𝗳 𝗶𝘁 𝘁𝗿𝗶𝗴𝗴𝗲𝗿𝘀 𝘆𝗼𝘂, 𝗶𝘁’𝘀 𝗽𝗼𝗶𝗻𝘁𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝘁𝗼 𝘀𝗼𝗺𝗲𝘁𝗵𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝗶𝗻 𝘆𝗼𝘂 𝘁𝗵𝗮𝘁’𝘀 𝗮𝘀𝗸𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝗳𝗼𝗿 𝗵𝗲𝗮𝗹𝗶𝗻𝗴.

Not because the other person is blameless, and not because you’re making things up.

But because your reaction—the charge behind it—is yours to deal with.

And until you do, you’ll keep watching the same movie with different actors.

So when something hits hard, I don’t talk myself out of it anymore—and I don’t rush to figure out who’s right and who’s wrong.

I just pause.

And I practice.

For me, that practice has a name.

There’s an ancient Hawaiian practice called 𝗛𝗼’𝗼𝗽𝗼𝗻𝗼𝗽𝗼𝗻𝗼 that I keep coming back to.

Four little phrases:

🌿 𝗜’𝗠 𝗦𝗢𝗥𝗥𝗬.

🌿 𝗣𝗟𝗘𝗔𝗦𝗘 𝗙𝗢𝗥𝗚𝗜𝗩𝗘 𝗠𝗘.

🌿 𝗧𝗛𝗔𝗡𝗞 𝗬𝗢𝗨.

🌿 𝗜 𝗟𝗢𝗩𝗘 𝗬𝗢𝗨.

Not for them.

𝗙𝗼𝗿 𝗺𝗲.

For whatever got stirred up. For the part of me still hauling around something I didn’t even know was there.

I’ve seen it work too many times to blow it off.

𝗜𝘁 𝗰𝗹𝗲𝗮𝗿𝘀 𝘀𝗼𝗺𝗲𝘁𝗵𝗶𝗻𝗴.
𝗜𝘁 𝗾𝘂𝗶𝗲𝘁𝘀 𝘀𝗼𝗺𝗲𝘁𝗵𝗶𝗻𝗴.

And from that quieter place, I can actually see—not what I’m scared of, not what I’m bracing for—but what’s actually in front of me.

Like when I catch myself overexplaining to someone who never asked.

𝗧𝗵𝗮𝘁’𝘀 𝗻𝗼𝘁 𝗶𝗻𝘁𝘂𝗶𝘁𝗶𝗼𝗻. 𝗧𝗵𝗮𝘁’𝘀 𝗷𝘂𝘀𝘁 𝗮 𝗵𝗮𝗯𝗶𝘁.

I teach Ho’oponopono if you want to learn it. Reach out—let’s talk. You’ll thank me. 💜

But even just sitting with those four phrases on your own?

𝗧𝗵𝗮𝘁’𝘀 𝗮 𝘀𝘁𝗮𝗿𝘁.

This isn’t about putting up walls or expecting the worst.

It’s about getting honest enough with myself to tell intuition apart from fear—and what’s really happening from what I’ve been trained to expect.

Over time, relationships get less exhausting.

I stop decoding every text and replaying every conversation. I simply notice how I consistently feel around someone—not on their best day or their worst, but over time.

And honestly?

I’m still figuring it out.

𝗕𝘂𝘁 𝗜’𝗺 𝗴𝗲𝘁𝘁𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝗯𝗲𝘁𝘁𝗲𝗿 𝗮𝘁 𝗶𝘁.

Does any of this hit home?

Reply and tell me—I actually want to know.

Or, if you’re curious about Ho’oponopono and want to learn more, reach out. Let’s talk.

Love always,
Susie ❤️

www.susieadcock.com

09/05/2026

08/30/2026

WHEN WE THINK WE NEED MORE

I was sitting on my back porch last night, watching the light fade through the trees, and there was this moment—just a flash, really—where everything just felt… okay. Not perfect. Not solved. Just okay. Present. Like I was exactly where I was supposed to be.

And then my brain started narrating it.

"This is nice. I should feel this more often. How do I make this happen again?"

I caught myself doing it, and I just had to sit with that for a minute. Like, really? I can't even have a moment of peace without turning it into a project? Connection isn't something you manage or collect. But there I was, already figuring out how to bottle it.

That stung a little, I'm not going to lie.

I remember that beautiful feeling fading, and this tiny ripple of panic rising up. Wait—come back. Did I do something wrong? Was I not open enough? Did I miss something?

And that's when it hit me. I was treating connection like a test. Like the Divine was keeping score, and I needed to prove I was worthy of another visit.

The ego? It's sneakier than we think. It doesn't always show up as arrogance. Sometimes it shows up dressed in spiritual clothes, whispering, "You're not there yet. You need more."

Suddenly, the sacred becomes a goal. Presence becomes a prize. And I'm chasing something that was never actually lost.

Here's what I'm slowly learning—the ego chases, but the soul stays. The ego wants the experience; the soul wants the embodiment. The ego says, "I want to hear from my Higher Self more often." The soul says, "I want to live from my Higher Self—right here, in this messy, ordinary moment."

One is reaching. The other is resting. One is thirsty. The other is the water.

Maybe the goal was never to have endless conversations with something greater. Maybe the invitation is to become the conversation. To let that wisdom move through us—not just when we're quiet, but in traffic, in conflict, in laughter, in the mundane stuff we usually scroll past.

Because the ego will always find a reason to ask for more.

And honestly? That's part of the journey too.

So now, when I catch myself reaching for more, I pause. I put my hand on my heart. I smile a little, because I see what I'm doing. And I quietly ask: "Okay… but who's asking right now?"

Then I get still enough to really hear the answer.

And more often than not, I realize—I already have everything I'm looking for. I just forgot to notice.

I know I'm not the only one who wrestles with this. If you're reading this and you feel that tug—that quiet restlessness, that ache for more—you're not alone. I'd genuinely love to hear from you. Drop a comment, send me a message. Let me know what comes up when you ask yourself who's really asking. And if you want to talk it through, I'm here for that conversation. Truly.

Love Always,
Susie

www.susieadcock.com