They say not to watch the numbers.

But I’m watching.

Ten.

Ten quiet clicks that said: I see you.

Ten pairs of ears that pressed play on my pain, my poetry, my PMS-fueled chaos. Ten tiny shifts in the algorithm of the universe that told me:

This voice matters. Even if it slurs. Even if it shakes. Even if it swears too much and says “bloodbath” like it’s a sacrament.

So to the first ten brave souls who entered the chapel of my trauma dump in stereo — thank you. You weren’t just listening.

You were witnessing.

You were whispering to the algorithm:

“More of this. More of her. More of the girl who made a podcast out of her grief and gave it glitter-stained fangs.”

Ten listens.

Ten portals.

Ten cracked mirrors catching the light.

The Shift has officially begun.

And I’m not going back.

Love,

Roxy Redrum

Host of Shift Happens: Bloodbath & Beyond

Where the exes are buried and the glow-ups are gospel