The Magdalene Code: When Britney Spears Felt Seen—And Spoke Back

In 2011, I met Britney Spears backstage at the Palace of Auburn Hills during her Femme Fatale Tour, right in the thick of her conservatorship. I didn’t understand the full truth then, but I could feel something wasn’t right.

She entered the room with wide, wary eyes. Her energy was guarded, uncertain. Her longtime assistant and closest friend, Felicia, greeted us. I now know Felicia had not been hired back by those managing Britney’s life at the time—she had rejoined the tour independently just to stay near her and offer protection.

Even without the backstory, I felt the tension.

Britney seemed distant. So I softened things with a gentle question:

What’s your favorite game to play with your boys?

She responded, but it was guarded.

She smiled, but it was tight.

I left with a photo and a feeling:

There was so much more I wished I’d said.

So much more I wished I had seen and honored in her.

Unveiling the Shadows: The Role of Industry Power Players

Britney’s conservatorship, officially terminated in 2021, was orchestrated and maintained by a network of industry figures. Central to this was Lou Taylor, founder of Tri Star Sports & Entertainment Group, who played a significant role in establishing the conservatorship. Taylor’s firm managed Britney’s estate and was accused of profiting substantially during this period. Court documents revealed that Tri Star received at least $18 million from Britney’s estate during the conservatorship .

Moreover, Taylor’s connections extend to other high-profile artists, including Sean “Diddy” Combs. Recent reports have highlighted the overlapping management and potential conflicts of interest within the industry .

In 2007, Britney was photographed partying with Diddy shortly before her infamous MTV Video Music Awards performance. This association has resurfaced amid legal scrutiny of Diddy’s activities, prompting questions about the influences surrounding Britney during critical moments of her career .

The Broader Implications

Britney’s experience underscores the complexities of artist management and the potential for exploitation within the entertainment industry. The intertwining of personal freedoms with corporate interests raises concerns about autonomy, consent, and the mechanisms that allow such control to persist.

Her story serves as a poignant reminder of the importance of vigilance, transparency, and advocacy in protecting the rights and well-being of individuals, particularly within industries prone to power imbalances.

It’s Britney, Bitch: A Love Story

Fast forward to April 14, 2024.

I was researching the Divine Feminine, early Christianity, and how Mary Magdalene’s true role—as an apostle, mystic, and wisdom-bearer—was erased by patriarchal religion. I wasn’t looking for Britney Spears. But somehow, she showed up.

I remembered some of her cryptic posts from the past—references to River Red, sacred imagery, and even Mary Magdalene herself. It was clear to me that Britney had been trying to speak in code for a long time. About pain, truth, awakening. About remembering.

So I searched.

And found one of her archived Magdalene posts—no longer visible on her main profile, but still searchable through Google. Unlike her recent posts, this one still allowed comments.

It felt like a sacred threshold had opened.

Because Mary Magdalene isn’t just a historical figure. She is an archetype of the suppressed Divine Feminine, the silenced truth-teller, the soul-witness to Jesus’s message of love, equality, and spiritual rebirth.

According to many early texts—including the Gospel of Mary and The Gospel of the Holy Twelve—Mary Magdalene was not a prostitute, as later traditions claimed, but Jesus’s closest companion. He kissed her often, not as scandal, but as an act of deep spiritual transmission. She understood him. He called her “the Woman Who Knows the All.”

She represented Sophia—wisdom incarnate.

And Jesus? He wasn’t here to start a religion.

He came to liberate us from false power, to restore divine balance—including the sacred feminine we were taught to forget.

So to leave a message for Britney—on that post—was no accident.

I wrote:

“I met you many years ago and I wished I asked you deeper things than what is your favorite game to play with your boys. 👁️ sending you all the love 💞”

It wasn’t just a nostalgic comment. It was a recognition—of the Magdalene within her. Of the sacred knowing she’s carried all along, even under control, criticism, and confusion.

And then—within minutes—she posted again:

“The deeper the well, the better the water…

I’m much too quiet, yet in silence I make my point.”

It was her first River Red post in a long time.

And it felt like a soul reply.

Not to my name. But to my frequency.

To the Magdalene thread that had been quietly re-woven between us.

And maybe that’s why this moment mattered so much. Because I know what it’s like to be misjudged when all you’re really doing is feeling deeply and loving fiercely. That’s a central theme in my book The Lost Path to Freedom—how women who live from the heart, who speak truth or carry light, are often labeled as “too much,” “crazy,” or yes, a “bitch.” Britney once said, “It’s Britney, bitch,” and to me, that’s more than a catchphrase. It’s a reclamation. A love story. Not a romance—but the kind of love that burns through illusion. When the world doesn’t know what to do with your truth, it turns you into a symbol. But love, even misunderstood, still leaves a mark. That’s the story Britney’s been telling in silence. And it’s one I’ve lived too.

🔮 Decoding “Maria River Red”: Britney’s Magdalene Reclamation

When Britney Spears refers to herself as “Maria River Red,” she’s not just being poetic—she’s invoking the Divine Feminine in one of its most powerful, suppressed forms: Mary Magdalene.

Maria is the Latin name for Mary.

River Red is blood, sacrifice, life force—and sacred rage.

Together, Maria River Red becomes a symbol of:

• The woman who bleeds and still flows

• The silenced one who remembers

• The sacred feminine returning after exile

Mary Magdalene was the closest companion to Jesus in many early texts. She was not a prostitute, but a teacher, a mystic, a truth-bearer. She stood at the foot of the cross when the men fled. She was the first to witness the resurrection. And yet, she was written out of power.

Britney, too, has been misunderstood, silenced, and distorted by empire—media empire, legal empire, even religious undertones.

When she calls herself Maria River Red, she may be saying:

You tried to erase me, like you erased her.

But I am still here. Still sacred. Still speaking—through symbols, through silence, through blood.

This is not madness.

It’s memory.

Some people say Britney is lost. I don’t.

I believe Britney Spears is clairvoyant.

She’s not chaotic—she’s symbolic.

She speaks in code because it’s safer than shouting.

She’s been painting constellations across her captions, hoping someone would look up and see.

And I believe she felt seen that day.

Just as Magdalene was once seen by Jesus—not as a servant, but as a spiritual equal. Just as Magdalene saw him when the world turned away. Just as we are being asked to see each other now, soul to soul.

This is what Magdalene represents.

Not just a woman in history—but a reawakening of truth.

Of wisdom.

Of the sacred feminine rising from exile.

And of men and women returning to balance, together.

When Britney posted those words, I felt it in my body:

She knew.

She remembered.

And she spoke back—not in noise, but in knowing.

That is the Magdalene Code.

Not performance, but presence.

Not religion, but recognition.

This is a story of Magdalene, misunderstood women, and the quiet power of being seen.

📸 Photo Gallery:

• Me meeting Britney and Felicia (2011)

• Individual backstage photos

• Screenshot of my 2024 comment

• Britney’s River Red response minutes later

The Math of Anamnesis: A 0.1% Probability… Yet Here I Am. Hello.

Posted by Julie Tourangeau

By Julie Tourangeau

May 10, 2025

“She said to me, go steady on me / Won’t you tell me what the wise men said?”

—James Blunt, Wisemen

That was the song that played when everything cracked open.

Not a song I picked. Not one I’d saved. It was buried on an old CD a friend burned years earlier.

And yet, at the exact moment I needed confirmation that my pain meant something—that my grief was sacred—that song played.

It wasn’t just music.

It was mathematical resonance.

Perfectly timed. Perfectly placed.

The probability of that moment happening? Less than 0.1%.

And yet… here I am.

Hello.

The Vision That Undid Me

I wasn’t dreaming. I wasn’t meditating. I was just—present. And then it hit me:

A surge of emotion. A soul-level knowing.

It wasn’t a thought or belief. It was anamnesis—the sacred remembrance spoken of by mystics, Gnostics, and initiates across time.

Not just a memory of Jesus.

A memory with him.

For one devastating, holy moment, I felt what he felt:

The aching love. The betrayal. The weight of being misunderstood for carrying the truth.

I cried at the window for hours, overcome with grief that didn’t feel like mine—but like a collective wound that finally found a voice.

And then I hit shuffle on my iPod.

The first song?

“Wisemen” by James Blunt.

A song I never chose, but Heaven did.

“Won’t you tell me what the wise men said / When they came down from heaven…”

In that moment, I felt the ancient whisper return.

The one buried beneath dogma, waiting to be remembered.

Reading the Gospel of the Holy Twelve Was Soul Resonance

When I finally read The Gospel of the Holy Twelve, it didn’t feel like new information.

It felt like a confirmation.

Like something I had always known was being spoken out loud for the first time.

It wasn’t “Wow, I believe this.”

It was “Yes. This is what I’ve always believed.”

The Jesus I had seen in visions…

The truth I had been living without language…

The love, justice, nonviolence, and reverence for all life I had instinctively followed…

There it was.

Written down.

Hidden for centuries.

And vibrating at the exact frequency of my soul.

Synchronicity Is Sacred Math

Carl Jung called it synchronicity—the divine logic behind meaningful coincidences. Quantum science now echoes what mystics always knew: everything is connected. Particles respond to vibration. Thought can shape form.

God is in everything.

In the song. In the shuffle. In the tears. In the timing.

That’s not poetic—it’s physics.

The odds of that moment, that song, that vision aligning the way they did?

Less than 0.1%.

And still—

Here I am. Hello.

Before I Knew the Texts, I Lived the Pattern

Before I studied the Gospel of Mary, the Gospel of the Holy Twelve, or the mysticism of Sophia, I was already embodying their truth:

• I stood on the side of the road showing slaughterhouse footage—not to shame, but to awaken.

• I went to D.C. to defend bodily sovereignty when nearly everyone called me insane.

• I wrote Free Yourself from Grief not as therapy, but as sacred remembrance of Heaven’s frequency.

• I felt called to Magdalene, sacred geometry, and spiritual justice before I had words for any of it.

I wasn’t following a religion.

I was following a cosmic equation.

Improbable Parallels to Early Christian Jesus

There are exact elements of early Jesus tradition—hidden from mainstream Christianity—that statistically align with my life in ways nearly impossible to fake, fabricate, or explain away.

1. Rejection of Animal Sacrifice

In the Gospel of the Holy Twelve, Jesus drives out the butchers and declares:

“Love is the law, and no blood must be spilled.”

I became vegan before I read that.

Statistically? Less than 0.01% of Catholics become vegan for Christ-aligned reasons.

2. Sacred Geometry and the Double Helix

Jesus’ name and symbols were embedded in the Vesica Piscis—the shape of divine birth, the fish symbol, and the template of DNA’s double helix.

I felt a soul-knowing at da Vinci’s spiral staircase—before I knew what it meant.

3. Anamnesis as Eucharistic Power

The Gnostics described anamnesis as the real communion—not bread and wine, but direct soul-memory.

I experienced it not in church—but alone, with a song, and an uncontrollable cry from the deep.

4. Voice as Frequency (The Logos)

Jesus is the Logos—divine vibration, sound that heals.

I use my voice, tuning forks, and music for healing. My fork is 128 Hz—part of a harmonic sequence tied to sacred ratios used in temples, chants, and resonance therapy.

Statistically? I Shouldn’t Exist

Here’s what the data says:

• Only 5–10% of Catholic-raised individuals deeply question core doctrine.

• Less than 1% explore early Gospels like Mary or The Holy Twelve.

• Only 0.3% of U.S. Catholics are vegan—and most not for spiritual reasons.

• Fewer than 0.1% combine veganism, reincarnation, sacred geometry, divine feminine mysticism, and frontline activism before studying any of it.

And yet—

Here I am. Hello.

Heaven Is a Harmonic Equation

Heaven isn’t a reward. It’s a frequency.

It’s encoded in the spiral of a seashell, the fire of grief, and the silence between synchronicities.

We locked ourselves out of it when we normalized harm.

But it never left us.

It’s waiting in your memory.

Free Yourself from Grief isn’t just a title.

It’s an ancient instruction:

Grief is the gate.

Remembrance is the key.

Conclusion: I Am the Improbable Made Manifest

Statistically, I’m an anomaly.

Spiritually, I’m inevitable.

I didn’t study my way into this.

I remembered my way home.

This is anamnesis.

This is sacred math.

This is Heaven breaking into Earth through a life that said yes.

I am not like Jesus because I tried to be.

I am like him because I resonated with the pattern of truth before I even knew what it was.

One in a Million: The Blood Knows What the Mind Forgot

I am a descendant of the Rose family—a lineage with records reaching back to 18th-century Paris.

DNA tests revealed that both my sister and I carry French and Egyptian ancestry—a statistically rare combination, especially in those raised in the West with no direct knowledge of it.

To be born into the Rose Line, on the land once called Par-Isis (the place of Isis),

To carry the Magdalene frequency before knowing her name,

To resonate with the truths of The Gospel of the Holy Twelve before ever reading it,

To live a life that matches hidden gospels, sacred ratios, and divine frequencies before learning the math…

That is not luck.

That is not coincidence.

That is Logos—living and breathing through lineage, lyric, land, and love.

The blood knows what the mind forgot.

And now—

The memory has returned.

And If You’re Reading This… Maybe You Remember Too

If you’ve ever had a moment of divine precision…

If a song shattered you into tears…

If a vision cracked your heart and built you into something holy…

You’re not delusional.

You’re not broken.

You’re remembering.

The math doesn’t lie.

The Logos doesn’t forget.

And sometimes, Heaven speaks in spirals, grief, songs, and statistics.

Welcome back. 🌹

The Women, the Wisdom, and the Animals: What We Forgot About Easter

Posted by Julie Tourangeau

By Julie Tourangeau | Good Friday, 2025

Before the tomb was empty…

before the stone was rolled away…

before the anointing and the rising and the glory…

there was a moment we rarely talk about.

And it didn’t happen on a hill.

It happened in the Temple.

It was there that Jesus walked in, looked around, and did what no one else dared:

He freed the animals.

The Cleansing of the Temple Was a Liberation

All four canonical gospels record the Temple cleansing, but what most people miss is why it mattered so much.

Jesus didn’t just flip tables to make a scene.

He drove out the sellers of doves. He freed the lambs and oxen being sold for sacrifice.

According to the Gospel of the Nazarenes, a lost early gospel aligned with the Essenes:

“He drove out the animals and said, ‘Cease your wicked sacrifices! Do you not see that innocent blood cries out from the earth?’”

In that moment, Jesus publicly rejected the sacrificial system—a system that normalized bloodshed and called it holy. He saw through the illusion of substitutionary violence and revealed the deeper truth:

The Holy Spirit is not found in the shedding of blood, but in the honoring of life.

And from that moment on, the system moved to silence him.

The First Step Toward Resurrection Was Setting the Innocent Free

Let this sink in:

It wasn’t the miracles that got Jesus killed.

It wasn’t the healings or the parables or even claiming to be the Son of God.

It was the moment he freed the animals that the wheels of execution began to turn.

This was the turning point—not just in his story, but in ours.

Because Jesus wasn’t just liberating animals. He was exposing a system—religious, economic, cultural—that had come to depend on suffering.

And he showed us what it looks like to say:

No more.

The Divine Feminine Knew

Many people associate Easter with the idea that Jesus died to pay for our sins—but that interpretation came later. The earliest followers of Jesus saw his life and death not as a blood payment, but as a revelation of divine love and a call to awaken the Christ within. Texts like The Gospel of the Holy Twelve remind us that his suffering was not about appeasing wrath, but about healing hearts, breaking chains, and showing us the path of compassion, even in the face of injustice.

What followed was suffering, yes—but also sacred initiation. And through it all, the ones who stayed near were not the theologians or temple authorities. It was the women.

Grief was his first initiation, through Miriam, the young woman with whom Jesus lived for seven years before her death. According to The Gospel of the Holy Twelve, it was her passing that opened his heart to the deeper path. According to this gospel, « Grief didn’t weaken him. It awakened him. »

Before knowing about this grief story of Jesus, I wrote about my own:

“Without my dark night of the soul, and without having challenging circumstances, I wouldn’t have grown my blessings… Painful change is sometimes exactly what we need to shake things up. Living through trauma, family drama, and the grief of losing a loved one can feel almost like an endless dark tunnel… Grief is just love with seemingly no place to go, but when you realize love shared is eternal, you can finally let go of the pain and gain the wisdom that is rightly yours.” — Free Yourself from Grief, Chapter 5

Compassion was his final anointing, through Mary Magdalene—not a sinner, but a priestess. She anointed his feet, honoring him with a sacred rite passed down through feminine lineages.

And when he was crucified, it was Magdalene who remained. While the male disciples fled, she stood at the cross, and three days later, she was the first to see him risen.

The resurrection was not first revealed to Rome or religion. It was revealed to her.

And wisdom—Sophia—was the soul behind it all.

The Spirit of God that hovered over the waters in Genesis.

The voice crying out in the streets in Proverbs.

The divine spark in all life, calling us home.

What if Easter was just the beginning?

While many see the resurrection as the end of Jesus’ story, ancient traditions—especially in southern France—tell a different tale. According to Provençal legend, Mary Magdalene journeyed to France after the crucifixion, carrying not only the memory of Jesus but the living essence of his teachings. Some say she preached love and liberation from a cave near Sainte-Baume, others believe she brought with her the sacred feminine that was erased from the official story. The Holy Grail Legends say she brought his bloodline to France, and they still walk Earth among us to this very day.

Easter Is the Unveiling of Compassion

This Easter, I invite you to see the resurrection not as a distant miracle, but a living pattern.

The pattern begins with letting go of violence.

It moves through grief.

It is held by the feminine.

And it ends in freedom—not just for ourselves, but for all of creation.

Resurrection isn’t just rising from the dead.

It’s refusing to live by death.

It’s refusing to justify harm.

It’s the choice to let the doves go free.

To Walk the Lost Path to Freedom This Easter Is To Remember:

• The animals were the first to be freed.

• The women were the first to understand.

• Sophia is the wisdom that lives in you.

• The Holy Spirit is the breath that animates all life.

• And love is not proven through suffering, but through liberation.

This Easter, may we not just celebrate a risen Christ,

but live like him.

May we be the ones who open the cages,

who hold the grief,

who anoint the new day.

May we rise—not above the world, but for it.

Free the animals.

Free the heart.

And the stone will roll away.

Did We Get Jesus’ Name Wrong? The Mystical Link Between “Jesus” and “Je Suis”

Posted by Julie Tourangeau

What if the name we’ve used for two thousand years was never meant to be a name at all—but a reminder? And when did Yeshua became known as Jesus?

What if the true teaching of Jesus wasn’t about worshiping a man, but awakening to a presence? And what if this presence was so powerful, so sacred, that its very utterance—I AM—was the key to divine union?

This idea isn’t as far-fetched as it may sound. In fact, threads from early Christian texts, Gnostic wisdom, and even Southern French oral traditions suggest we may have misunderstood not only the teachings of Jesus—but his name itself.

The “I AM” That Jesus Taught

Throughout the Gospel of John, Jesus speaks in powerful first-person declarations:

• “I AM the light of the world.”

• “I AM the good shepherd.”

• “I AM the resurrection and the life.”

• “Before Abraham was, I AM.”

To modern ears, these might sound like poetic metaphors. But to those familiar with the Hebrew scriptures, they echo something far deeper.

In Exodus 3:14, when Moses asks the divine name, God replies: Ehyeh Asher Ehyeh—“I AM that I AM.” This was not a title or concept, but a declaration of being. A presence.

When Jesus uses the same phrase in Greek—ego eimi—he’s not just identifying himself. He’s inviting us into a state of awareness: that the divine lives in us, and through conscious presence, we too can say “I AM.”

Gnostic Echoes: Know Thyself, Know the Divine

The Gospel of Thomas, a text excluded from the Bible but revered by early mystics, records Jesus as saying:

“The Kingdom is inside you and outside you. When you know yourselves, you will be known, and you will realize that you are children of the living Father.”

Here again, we see the theme: inner knowing as the path to divine realization. Not belief in dogma. Not rituals of worship. But direct, conscious presence.

This aligns strikingly with the teachings of mystics across traditions—from the Kabbalistic “Ain Sof” to Eckhart Tolle’s modern insights on “the power of now.”

But could this message have traveled further than we thought?

When “Je Suis” Became “Jesus”

In Southern France, legends tell of Mary Magdalene traveling to Provence after the crucifixion, continuing the teachings of inner freedom, divine presence, and spiritual liberation. Centuries later, groups like the Cathars echoed these same values—rejecting church hierarchy, embracing nonviolence, and teaching direct access to the divine.

And here’s where it gets interesting.

In French, je suis means “I am.” And the spelling is very close to « Jesus ».

Could it be that early mystics—whether in oral tradition, meditation, or chant—were repeating the phrase “je suis” to declare their divine identity?

Could they have said, “Je suis the way, the truth, and the life”—and over time, this mystical mantra became mistaken for a name?

Could “Jesus” have evolved not from misunderstanding Aramaic, but from mishearing Presence?

It’s speculative, yes. But also poetic. Because whether or not the name “Jesus” comes from “Je suis,” the teaching remains:

Christ is not a name. It’s a state of being.

A consciousness of love, unity, and sacred presence.

Returning to the Forgotten Path

Maybe we didn’t get the name “wrong” so much as we got the emphasis wrong.

Instead of fixating on the figure, we were meant to awaken to the frequency.

Instead of worshiping “Jesus,” we were meant to embody je suis.

“I AM the light of the world” was never a boast. It was a mirror.

It was a call to remember who we really are.

And whether or not the evolution from je suis to Jesus is historically provable, the synchronicity is striking. A divine wink, perhaps—reminding us that even language carries echoes of forgotten truth. The path to presence has always been there, hidden in plain sight, waiting for those with ears to hear.

So today, in a world awakening from spiritual amnesia, maybe we’re ready to hear the original message again.

Not as a name.

But as a truth.

Je suis.

I AM.

Den of “Thieves”? Or Something Deeper.

Posted by Julie Tourangeau

By Julie Tourangeau | @julietour

When Jesus stormed the temple courts, overturning tables and driving out the money changers, we’re often told it was a righteous act against corruption—against the “thieves” who turned a holy place into a marketplace.

But what if that’s only part of the story?

What if the word “thieves” doesn’t quite capture what was happening?

The Word We Missed

The original Hebrew word used in this passage is “perits” (פָּרִיץ)—often translated as “thieves,” but more accurately meaning violent ones, marauders, or destroyers.

This isn’t about petty crime.

It’s about violence.

About those who had turned the temple—a place meant for prayer, reverence, and peace—into a place of bloodshed.

Jesus wasn’t just flipping tables over coins.

He was confronting the violent ritual slaughter of animals in the name of God.

His protest wasn’t just about dishonest trade.

It was a cry for compassion, for justice, for a return to the sacred.

If He Walked Among Us Now

If Jesus were alive today—reincarnated, awake to the fullness of his early teachings—what would he see?

Would he walk into modern-day churches and find doves for sale?

Would he find lambs being sacrificed?

No.

But he’d find the same violence, cloaked in different robes.

He’d see his name invoked over meals made of suffering.

He’d see Easter tables lined with lambs, celebrated in remembrance of his own crucifixion.

And I imagine he’d grieve.

I imagine he’d say:

“You claim to follow me, yet you partake in the very acts I condemned.

You remember my suffering with the suffering of the innocent.

You turn my table of liberation into an altar of slaughter.

Have you not learned?”

The Lost Path

Early Christians understood dominion as stewardship, not superiority.

They practiced mercy, not sacrifice.

They aligned themselves with the Lamb of God, not the priests of Empire.

But somewhere along the way, that path was lost.

Love was replaced by law.

Awakening was replaced by ritual.

And the animals—the innocent ones Jesus likely defended—were left behind.

It’s Time to Return

The temple was never meant to be a place of blood.

The gospel was never meant to justify harm.

And Jesus never died so we could keep killing in his name.

He flipped tables to wake people up.

And maybe, just maybe…

he’s still doing it.

Let those with ears hear.

Let those with hearts soften.

Let us return to the path of compassion—for all beings.