Grief In Heels: The Audacity Of being Seen
Written by Gina Starbuck
February 17th, 2026
4 min read
February 17th, 2026
4 min read
Gina Starbuck is a retreat leader, embodiment expert, published author, and multidimensional medicine woman working at the intersection of art, frequency, and leadership. She is known for creating immersive, high-level experiences that recalibrate the nervous system, restore creative power, and awaken embodied authority.
A master of movement, sound, and energy alchemy, Gina works with founders, creatives, and visionaries who are already successful and ready to expand their capacity for visibility, wealth, and influence without fragmentation or burnout.
With roots as a world-renowned performer and decades of healing mastery, Gina weaves art, intuition, and spirit into every environment she curates. Her work is not self-help. It is precision medicine for the soul. A full-body return to truth, power, and leadership.
"A woman disconnected from her eros isn't more virtuous. She is tired." -Gina Starbuck
A master of movement, sound, and energy alchemy, Gina works with founders, creatives, and visionaries who are already successful and ready to expand their capacity for visibility, wealth, and influence without fragmentation or burnout.
With roots as a world-renowned performer and decades of healing mastery, Gina weaves art, intuition, and spirit into every environment she curates. Her work is not self-help. It is precision medicine for the soul. A full-body return to truth, power, and leadership.
"A woman disconnected from her eros isn't more virtuous. She is tired." -Gina Starbuck
There I was. In heels & lingerie. Dancing in a rain room and being filmed for all the world to see at forty-two.
I was twenty pounds heavier than my ideal weight. I had just come through one of the most trying years of my life. A pregnancy loss, a temporary separation from my partner of over a decade, and the father of my child. And the kind of emotional unraveling that makes you question if you will actually make it through to the other side.
It was not a glamorous season. It was humbling, to say the least. And yet there I was just a few months on the other side of it, choosing not only to move… But to really step into the spotlight and let all of the parts of me be expressed. It was me reconnecting with my artistry as the ultimate medicine and not placing conditions upon what is and isn’t “appropriate”.
I mean, there’s a million ideas out there around what is and isn’t appropriate when it comes to motherhood, midlife, processing grief, being a “light worker” and a leader.
Yet there I was, saying “fuck it” to every single one. Why? Because my literal life and livelihood depended on it. And after that last season, the one thing I will never do again is dim myself or question my natural impulse toward what is and isn’t right for ME.
Through my lens, appropriateness is a construct, and no matter who you are and what you’ve been through, it is always appropriate to lay an offering on the altar of your own becoming. And that’s what this was for me…
And this- leather and rain, a wild woman writhing in power and vulnerability. This was more than appropriate for me. It was pure alchemy.
I was twenty pounds heavier than my ideal weight. I had just come through one of the most trying years of my life. A pregnancy loss, a temporary separation from my partner of over a decade, and the father of my child. And the kind of emotional unraveling that makes you question if you will actually make it through to the other side.
It was not a glamorous season. It was humbling, to say the least. And yet there I was just a few months on the other side of it, choosing not only to move… But to really step into the spotlight and let all of the parts of me be expressed. It was me reconnecting with my artistry as the ultimate medicine and not placing conditions upon what is and isn’t “appropriate”.
I mean, there’s a million ideas out there around what is and isn’t appropriate when it comes to motherhood, midlife, processing grief, being a “light worker” and a leader.
Yet there I was, saying “fuck it” to every single one. Why? Because my literal life and livelihood depended on it. And after that last season, the one thing I will never do again is dim myself or question my natural impulse toward what is and isn’t right for ME.
Through my lens, appropriateness is a construct, and no matter who you are and what you’ve been through, it is always appropriate to lay an offering on the altar of your own becoming. And that’s what this was for me…
And this- leather and rain, a wild woman writhing in power and vulnerability. This was more than appropriate for me. It was pure alchemy.
Somewhere along the way, we got sold the lie that midlife means to be more composed, less provocative. And that sensual expression and visibility were reserved for the younger, more conventionally beautiful ones. We’re told maturity looks like restraint. That spiritual depth appears calm, measured, and non-disruptive. That emotional intelligence means not making anyone uncomfortable.
But what if that’s not maturity? What if that’s just a trap?
I mean, of course, a wise woman and healthy leader will always have a pulse on the energy of the whole. She doesn’t need to shock anyone simply for the sake of shock. But she will absolutely disrupt a pattern if it means more aliveness, more freedom, more wholeness.
That rainroom dance video, though potentially shocking to some, wasn’t for shock value. It was for integration.
Years ago, when I was pregnant with my daughter, the birth trauma and health challenges that followed were processed mostly in the dark. I survived. I endured. I held it together in private. This time, as I processed the grief of the pregnancy loss, something in me knew the path had to be different. That my emotional maturity in this season was calling me not to hide away the grief and the in between, but to let it be witnessed in the light of day.
Grief moved through me. So did anger, tenderness, confusion, and the awakening of a deeper power that I still couldn’t put into words if I tried. Rather than retreat into invisibility, I chose expression. Not because I was completely healed, but because I was (and am) alive, human, in process…
People may not know the details of what you’ve walked through. They may not understand your tower moments or all that you’ve had to face head-on. But they can feel when a woman is mid-fire and choosing to burn out loud. There’s a texture to it. A depth. A gravity that cannot be faked.
Your art changes. Your presence thickens. Your magnetism comes from a deep and undeniable place.
You do not have to be in the depths to be captivating. But if you are, please do not hide.
Our culture is starving for the full spectrum of womanhood. We don’t need more perfection or highlight reels. We do not need only the runway or sports model archetypes willing to be seen and expressed. All bodies are beautiful, yes. But what we are truly hungry for is lived truth. & women whose bodies carry their stories without apology. Even as we strive for something that feels and looks better for us.
There is magic and medicine in you that does not disappear when your body changes, when your relationship shifts, or when something falls apart. In fact, sometimes it strengthens.
One of the most spiritually mature things you can do is show up for your art, your leadership, and your creations in the middle of your becoming. Not as chaos or unprocessed trauma spilling onto others (please don’t do that).
With integrity, discernment, and a clear understanding of when you truly need to step back and when you’re just afraid to show up.
Right now, I see a lot of women half-hiding out of fear of being inappropriate or not good enough. But what if your perfect imperfection is exactly what’s needed?
Being witnessed in your imperfection does not weaken your authority. It deepens it.
When I danced in that rain room, I wasn’t trying to be anything other than exactly what I am. And you know what? People actually loved it. I’m still getting messages from women almost daily about how it reminded them of parts of themselves they had hidden away.
If something in you is restless right now, if there is an itch to create, to move, to be seen in a way that feels risky but true, ask yourself whose definition of “appropriate” is in your head. This is the season where you learn to hold your grief and your glamour in the same body. To lead not from perfection, but from presence.
This is the era where you lead from wholeness. And all parts of you, “appropriate” or not, have a chance to be expressed. The people who are truly for you will thank you. YOU will thank you.
Go get it, babe. I’m cheering you on.
But what if that’s not maturity? What if that’s just a trap?
I mean, of course, a wise woman and healthy leader will always have a pulse on the energy of the whole. She doesn’t need to shock anyone simply for the sake of shock. But she will absolutely disrupt a pattern if it means more aliveness, more freedom, more wholeness.
That rainroom dance video, though potentially shocking to some, wasn’t for shock value. It was for integration.
Years ago, when I was pregnant with my daughter, the birth trauma and health challenges that followed were processed mostly in the dark. I survived. I endured. I held it together in private. This time, as I processed the grief of the pregnancy loss, something in me knew the path had to be different. That my emotional maturity in this season was calling me not to hide away the grief and the in between, but to let it be witnessed in the light of day.
Grief moved through me. So did anger, tenderness, confusion, and the awakening of a deeper power that I still couldn’t put into words if I tried. Rather than retreat into invisibility, I chose expression. Not because I was completely healed, but because I was (and am) alive, human, in process…
People may not know the details of what you’ve walked through. They may not understand your tower moments or all that you’ve had to face head-on. But they can feel when a woman is mid-fire and choosing to burn out loud. There’s a texture to it. A depth. A gravity that cannot be faked.
Your art changes. Your presence thickens. Your magnetism comes from a deep and undeniable place.
You do not have to be in the depths to be captivating. But if you are, please do not hide.
Our culture is starving for the full spectrum of womanhood. We don’t need more perfection or highlight reels. We do not need only the runway or sports model archetypes willing to be seen and expressed. All bodies are beautiful, yes. But what we are truly hungry for is lived truth. & women whose bodies carry their stories without apology. Even as we strive for something that feels and looks better for us.
There is magic and medicine in you that does not disappear when your body changes, when your relationship shifts, or when something falls apart. In fact, sometimes it strengthens.
One of the most spiritually mature things you can do is show up for your art, your leadership, and your creations in the middle of your becoming. Not as chaos or unprocessed trauma spilling onto others (please don’t do that).
With integrity, discernment, and a clear understanding of when you truly need to step back and when you’re just afraid to show up.
Right now, I see a lot of women half-hiding out of fear of being inappropriate or not good enough. But what if your perfect imperfection is exactly what’s needed?
Being witnessed in your imperfection does not weaken your authority. It deepens it.
When I danced in that rain room, I wasn’t trying to be anything other than exactly what I am. And you know what? People actually loved it. I’m still getting messages from women almost daily about how it reminded them of parts of themselves they had hidden away.
If something in you is restless right now, if there is an itch to create, to move, to be seen in a way that feels risky but true, ask yourself whose definition of “appropriate” is in your head. This is the season where you learn to hold your grief and your glamour in the same body. To lead not from perfection, but from presence.
This is the era where you lead from wholeness. And all parts of you, “appropriate” or not, have a chance to be expressed. The people who are truly for you will thank you. YOU will thank you.
Go get it, babe. I’m cheering you on.
