10 CLEOPATRA-INSPIRED HOTELSApril 16, 2026 · Chandra Kiran Reddy Deshidi

Bath Time With... is a new series from 39BC. We visit the bathrooms of our muses and friends — and find that a private space has a way of unlocking a uniquely intimate conversation about routines, rituals, and the objects they can't live without.
This week: Nieve Tierney, Modern Energy Healer, Reiki Master, and the leader of Energy Tank – a monthly energy activation designed to detox and raise your frequency.
My earliest memory of water is the sea.
There’s a photograph of me, completely naked, standing on a beach at maybe two or three years old, just staring out at it in total awe. I remember my parents showing me that photo and laughing, but what it really captured was that feeling of vastness — the shock of how enormous the world is when you first encounter it. I think that moment stayed with me. Water has always felt like something bigger than me. Something intelligent. Something that can hold emotion, memory, and wonder all at once.
I also remember being in the bath with my little brother, making hairstyles out of bubbles and laughing hysterically at what we thought were our masterpieces. Bath time felt playful and imaginative. It wasn’t just about getting clean.
I grew up in London, but my mum is from Madagascar and my dad is Irish, so our home never felt culturally straightforward. There were things in our house that I slowly realised other people didn’t have in theirs. Crystals everywhere. Music playing late into the night. Dancing, singing, adults talking and laughing while you drifted off to sleep somewhere nearby. Schedules weren’t rigid. Bedtimes weren’t particularly strict. There was a softness and looseness to the atmosphere that I didn’t see in all my friends’ homes.
My mum always described herself as spiritual rather than religious. She would speak to the ancestors. She had rituals. She moved through the world in relationship with unseen energies, and that was just normal to me. My dad, on the other hand, was completely atheist when I was growing up. He was open-minded about different cultures and belief systems, but when it came to spirits or ancestors or speaking to the land, that was very much my mother’s world, not his.
It’s funny, because now he’s in his seventies and doing ayahuasca and mushroom journeys and calling me to say, “This stuff is real.” So perhaps we all arrive in our own time.
For me, that journey didn’t really begin until adulthood.
I would go to ceremonies and observe. I would go to church. I would witness people speaking to ancestors, honouring the dead, connecting to something beyond the visible. But it wasn’t yet mine.
At the time, I was working in fashion and living what looked like a very normal, high-functioning, busy life. I was doing all the things people tell you to do to sustain yourself — trying to meditate, trying to stay healthy, trying not to burn out — but none of it was really reaching the root of what I was experiencing. I wanted balance, but not in a superficial way. I didn’t need another green juice. I needed something deeper.
So I started working with a Reiki healer, and over time, something began to open. I started seeing colour auras. I began learning how to meditate without an app. I started to understand that energy can be moved, changed, transmuted. In meditation, I would see symbols appearing clearly in front of me, but I didn’t know what they were. Then one day I was in a yoga class and saw a woman covered in tattoos. I asked her about them, and she explained that they were Egyptian symbols — the Ankh, the Eye of Horus. All these images I had been seeing internally, without context, suddenly had names.
From that point on, it was as though a whole hidden world was waking up around me.
Now, as an energy healer, my work is about helping people understand how to improve their energy, their frequency, and their relationship to what surrounds them. And I really believe beauty, bathing, wellness, and energy work are all connected by one thing: they offer us a moment to pause.
That pause is everything.