For the past three months, I've been sharing my ugliest truths. The ones I swore I'd keep buried forever.
It's been raw. It's been freeing. And some days, it gut punches me.
Today is one of those days.
I'm afraid. I am an impostor.
Right now, Doubt Dickhead is whispering:
"They know you were a whore.""They know you are a felon.”"Who do you think you are?"
Maybe so, all that, but I am Unmuffled, and I'm all-in.
I love me — but do they still want more?
Do you still want me?
I sat with that question longer than I care to admit.
Because for three-quarters of a century, I measured my worth by the world's reaction — by your reaction.
Approval — Acceptance — Applause
But here's the turn card I didn’t expect:
Every time I wonder if I’m supposed to be coaching poker players anymore, one shows up.
Every time.
No ads.
No announcements.
Just a soft knock from life saying:
"It’s still your seat. Still your hand."
This week, one of my first, private poker clients in 2010 — someone I hadn’t spoken to in several years — reached out.
She wants help preparing for the World Series of Poker® events this year.
We last worked together in 2021, and here she is, asking to sit across from me again… to sit with me again.
Coincidence? Not a chance!
After we talked, I asked if she'd like a link to my latest Substack post — the one where I looked back at three-quarters of a century.
Only after she said yes did I send it.
She’d never been on Substack before, and she opened an account just to read it.
The next morning, I woke up to this, her text message:
This blew my mind!
I want to read everything.
Wow.
Thank you for your truths and inspiration on so many levels.
She didn’t just read it, she restacked it — publicly putting her name behind my messy, beautiful, unfiltered truth.
Her comment note on Substack read:
I am inspired by truth-teller Dr. Donna Blevins.
Her words touched me deeply.
Respect Before Links
Here’s something else you deserve to know about me.
Rather than shove my post at her or drop a link in her face, I asked first.
Because respect matters.
Too many people these days think "building community" means splattering links under comments like this:
"Wow, you’re inspiring — here’s my Substack, please subscribe!"
Bullshit.
That’s not community.
That’s spam wearing a cheap suit.
Building a real connection means asking permission.
It means valuing conversation over conversion.
It means standing in your truth, not standing on a soapbox.
Once a poker mindset coach, now a seasoned MindShift Mechanic™, I focus on the whole you, fine-tuning the self-talk gears by guiding you to turn on and tune into your internal GPS.
Let me be clear, though — I’m finished coddling.
I’ve installed steel toes on my velvet-toed boots.
If you’re looking for someone to whisper sweet nothings and tell you everything’s fine when it’s not, or try to fix you, I’m not your girl.
For one thing, you’re not broken. You’re experiencing life from your point of view.
If you’re ready to stand up, tune in, and start playing your authentic game rather than mimicking someone else's — I’m right here, boots laced and ready.
But Doubt Dickhead Still Lives Inside
Yes, I wish I could tell you that Doubt Dickhead packs up and moves out once you get brave enough.
He doesn’t — he just changes tactics.
He whispers instead of shouting.
He pokes instead of pounding.
He tries to bait you back into the corner you fought so hard to leave.
That’s his job.
Most days, when I hear him, I do my breathwork, lean in, and say, "Hmm... Isn't that interesting?"
And then, I write down what I just heard with acceptance and grace.
Once journaled, the fear, worry, and angst are no longer out there and all around you — they have boundaries, and they are finite.
But to be honest, some days, I really just want to yell, "Just shut the fck up!"
And then I laugh.
Because the moment you can laugh at Doubt Dickhead, you've already taken back your power.
Here’s something else I’ve learned:
Suppressing shitty guilt and doubt doesn’t make them go away.
It buries them deeper, where they siphon off your energy, your power, your self-confidence.
Quietly, constantly.
Letting go of the uglies — the guilt, judgment, blame, and shame — is what sets you free.
I can attest to that.
Beyond survival, it’s liberation.
And honestly?
It feels so good, it’s almost orgasmic.
That’s the game now — noticing the noise without folding to it.
You stop feeding him.
You recognize the voice.
You hear the lies for what they are — old noise from old rooms you no longer live in, and hands you lost or ones you played poorly.
And you keep showing up anyway — as the unique, beautiful, transparent human that you are.
Life Deals Us Signs — If We're Paying Attention
In poker, unless you have the best possible hand, you don't know if you’re ahead or behind until all the cards are turned over.
Life’s the same way.
You rarely get immediate proof that you’re on the right path.
Sometimes you’re sitting there second-guessing your bet, sweating the next card, ready to fold.
And then, life slides a little reminder across the table.
A client you thought had moved on
A reader you didn’t even know was out there
A stranger who says, "Because of you, I can now heal."
Rather than coincidence, that's connection.
That’s your proof you’re still supposed to be here — telling the truth, rather than the story you think or you thought the world wanted to hear.
Staying in the Game — Even When Afraid
Sometimes my heart misfires when I try to write, and nothing comes together. I keep rewriting and editing the same piece over and over again.
Sometimes I'm exhausted and sick to my stomach before I hit publish.
Will they like it?
Will you like it?
Sometimes I wonder if the next word will be the one that finally makes people turn away. Leave…
But here's what matters:
I’m still in the game.
I’m still playing the best I can with the cards I have, one hand at a time.
I’m still betting on the truth — even when it’s scary, messy, or wildly imperfect.
And maybe... just maybe… someone out there will see me — feel me unfiltered — and remember that they have a seat in the game, too.
Maybe you’re sitting there right now worried you'll get it wrong.
Maybe Doubt Dickhead is whispering in your ear.
Let me be the one to tell you…
It’s never too late to play your game, cards face up.
It’s never too late to speak your truth.
You don’t have to win every hand to stay in the game.
You just have to be willing to keep showing up — real, honest, and unfiltered.
If you’re ready for all that...
Then, Stay in the Game With Me
Subscribe for free, and my voice will meet you in your inbox — raw, real, and ready.
And let's hope I never bore you.
Become a paid subscriber and join me for LIVE, monthly group sessions.
Founding subscribers? Your VIP seat is already waiting.
As I close today, let me remind you that I love you, just the way you are — even if we disagree.
I'm Donna Blevins, your MindShift Mechanic Unmuffled.
See you next time.
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