My phone battery is at fourteen percent, but I am still scrolling in the dark. The screen is too bright against my eyes. I should just plug it into the wall and go to sleep, but the algorithm keeps feeding me these videos.
Stories of people who just go for what they want.
The ones who bulldoze, the ones who demand, the ones who take up space without asking for permission first. We are so deeply conditioned to believe the world rewards good people. I am starting to severely doubt it. The people who get labeled selfish or difficult are out here flourishing. They are building massive companies. They are getting the contracts. They are buying the land.
The universe doesn’t seem to care if you are nice. It responds to audacity. It responds to leverage.
I used to think this was some massive injustice. But lying here tonight, listening to the dripping sound in the kitchen, I realize it is just mechanics. A dishonest person can become rich. A generous person can literally starve. A kind person can spend their entire life exhausted because they never learned how to tell anyone no. Being good doesn’t pay the rent. Being willing to ask for the money does.
And I think we confuse being good with being agreeable anyway.
I look at my own life. For a long time, I thought I was being a good person by not inconveniencing anyone. I would undercharge for my products. I would accept half payments. I would wait for people to pay me back instead of following up, just so I wouldn’t make things awkward. I made my business smaller so everyone else could remain comfortable.
I wanted to say I was just being kind. Actually, I was just terrified of their reaction. I was using goodness as a strategy to avoid discomfort.
People do strange things under the cover of being good. They give to the poor just to guilt some higher power into providing for them, or they do it for the applause on the internet while their actual neighbor hasn’t eaten in three days. The whole concept of morality is messy and controversial. I am leaving that alone. I just want to push my own limits.
I stopped being so agreeable in my business recently. I removed cash on delivery. I stopped taking half payments. I started letting customers walk away if they didn’t respect the pricing. I followed up on the money people owed me. My hands were literally shaking the first few times I sent those text messages. I felt entirely guilty. I felt selfish.
But there is this other type of person in the world. They just say, this is what I want, and they go get it. They send the invoice. They pitch the corporate client. They walk away from the table if the energy doesn’t serve them. They don’t spend three weeks sweating over whether someone thinks they are too ambitious.
I want to steal their audacity.
I have zero interest in the cruelty. I don’t want to manipulate people or destroy relationships just to secure a bag. Getting everything you want but having to spend the rest of your life protecting yourself from the consequences of how you got it is a very strange definition of freedom.
I just want to run an experiment. I want to see what happens if I become relentlessly intentional about getting what I want while simply refusing to harm people in the process.
What would I do if I stopped needing everyone to approve of my choices?
I would probably pitch bigger clients. I would buy the things I want without writing a five-page essay in my head defending my spending. I would travel. I would tell someone that a situation doesn’t work for me without apologizing for it. I would be entirely selfish with my time, my attention, and my peace.
Kindness without boundaries is just self-abandonment. I am so tired of abandoning myself just to keep the room quiet.
I reach over and plug my phone into the charger. The screen lights up for a second, illuminating the ceiling, and then goes black. The room is freezing. I don’t think I need to become a colder woman to survive. I just need to become a woman who is incredibly hard to stop.
I am going to become less negotiable about the things that actually matter to me.
And I think that is where this experiment really begins.
Not with becoming ruthless.
With becoming decisive.
There is a difference between knowing what you want and being willing to organize your entire life around getting it.
I have wanted a lot of things.
Financial freedom.
A thriving business.
A beautiful home.
A peaceful neighborhood.
A healthy body.
Travel.
A comfortable life for my son.
Savings.
Property.
Multiple income streams.
The ability to wake up and decide what I want to do with my day without first calculating whether I can afford it.
I have wanted all of these things for a long time.
But wanting something and behaving like a woman who expects to have it are two different things.
Maybe that is the experiment.
What happens when I stop treating my desires like wishes and start treating them like assignments?
If I want consistent sales, then I need to sell consistently.
If I want bigger clients, I need to become comfortable approaching bigger clients.
If I want my audience to grow, I need to be visible enough to actually be found.
If I want financial freedom, I need to learn how to make, keep, multiply and manage money.
If I want a beautiful home, I need to build toward it instead of only collecting pictures of one.
If I want to travel, I need to put travel into the budget instead of treating it like something that will magically happen once every other part of life is perfect.
If I want a different body, I have to live differently.
If I want more opportunities, I have to become someone who is available for opportunities.
It sounds almost embarrassingly obvious written down.
But perhaps that is what I have been missing.
The desire is not the plan.
The desire tells me where I want to go.
My behavior has to get me there.
And suddenly, this idea of audacity feels less like becoming an aggressive person and more like becoming a woman who takes her own desires seriously.
I don’t want to spend another decade saying, “One day.”
One day I’ll have the money.
One day I’ll travel.
One day I’ll build the house.
One day I’ll grow the business.
One day I’ll become visible.
One day I’ll buy the equipment.
One day I’ll have enough savings.
One day I’ll stop worrying.
No.
I want to start behaving like one day is already being built today.
Maybe the woman who has everything I want isn’t fundamentally different from me.
Maybe she simply stopped waiting for permission.
She stopped asking whether wanting more made her greedy.
She stopped apologizing for charging what her work was worth.
She stopped thinking every rejection was evidence that she should retreat.
She stopped making other people’s discomfort her emergency.
She stopped explaining herself to people who had already decided not to understand.
She stopped treating every opportunity like it was her last.
That last one matters.
Because scarcity makes you cling.
Abundance lets you choose.
When you believe something is your only chance, you tolerate almost anything.
When you know you can create another opportunity, you can walk away.
That’s leverage.
And I want more of it.
Not because I want power over people.
I want power over my own circumstances.
I want enough money that a slow month doesn’t scare me.
Enough savings that an unexpected expense doesn’t send me into panic.
Enough business that I can say no to a client who is disrespectful.
Enough skills that I can create another source of income when one slows down.
Enough confidence that rejection doesn’t make me question my worth.
Enough emotional stability that someone’s opinion doesn’t determine my day.
Enough freedom that I don’t have to stay anywhere simply because I cannot afford to leave.
That is the kind of power I want.
The quiet kind.
The kind nobody has to see.
The kind that makes you sleep better.
The kind that makes you breathe differently.
The kind that lets you sit across from someone with money, status, influence or authority and still know that you will be okay if they say no.
Because you have yourself.
And you have options.
I also think I am done confusing waiting with patience.
Sometimes patience is wisdom.
Sometimes patience is just fear wearing a respectable outfit.
“I’ll wait until I’m ready.”
Ready for what?
Ready until I have no doubts?
That day may never come.
“I’ll start when I have more money.”
What can I start with what I have?
“I’ll show my face when I’m more confident.”
How exactly am I supposed to become confident while hiding?
“I’ll pitch when my portfolio is better.”
What if the pitch is how I get the portfolio?
“I’ll raise my prices when I have more customers.”
What if better pricing is part of how I build a better business?
I am beginning to see how easy it is to keep myself permanently parked while calling it preparation.
No.
I want movement.
I want momentum.
I want to see what happens when I stop needing every step to feel safe before I take it.
And I want to be selfish about my time.
This might be one of the biggest changes.
I don’t want to spend entire days available to everybody and then wonder why I have no energy left for my own life.
I don’t want every message to become an emergency.
I don’t want every person’s problem to become something I have to solve.
I don’t want to keep giving access simply because someone knows me.
I don’t want to explain every boundary.
I don’t want to feel guilty for being unavailable.
I want mornings that belong to me.
Work hours that actually belong to work.
Evenings that belong to my life.
Time with my son that isn’t interrupted by business anxiety.
Time to bake.
Time to travel.
Time to sit somewhere beautiful and do absolutely nothing productive.
Time to think.
Time to create.
Time to sleep.
Time to be a human being rather than an endlessly available resource.
Maybe that’s selfish.
Fine.
I can live with that.
And I want to become selfish with my attention too.
Because attention is currency.
I don’t want to spend mine obsessing over people who aren’t building my life with me.
I don’t want to spend hours watching someone else’s life while neglecting my own.
I don’t want to feed every algorithm that knows exactly how to make me angry, insecure, horny, jealous, nostalgic or anxious.
I want to be deliberate about what enters my mind.
If something repeatedly makes me feel smaller, I don’t need to consume it.
If someone repeatedly disrupts my peace, I don’t need to keep giving them access.
If a conversation takes me away from what I’m building, I don’t have to participate.
There is so much freedom in realizing that not everything deserves a response.
I want to become audacious with money too.
Not reckless.
Audacious.
I want to ask for what my work is worth.
I want to negotiate.
I want to pitch.
I want to follow up.
I want to sell.
I want to learn how wealthy people actually think about money instead of constantly treating money like something morally suspicious.
I want to make a lot of it.
And I want to keep it.
And invest it.
And use it to create more freedom.
I don’t want to make money just so I can say I made money.
I want what money can buy me at its highest level:
Choice.
Choice about where I live.
Choice about how I work.
Choice about where my son goes to school.
Choice about whether I travel this year.
Choice about whether I need to accept a terrible client.
Choice about whether I can take a week off.
Choice about whether I can help someone without compromising myself.
Choice about what kind of life I build.
That’s what abundance means to me.
Not a giant pile of things.
Room to choose.
And perhaps the most radical thing I can do is stop making my desires smaller because they sound excessive.
I want the beautiful home.
I want the thriving business.
I want the travel.
I want the money.
I want the experiences.
I want the good food.
I want the clothes.
I want the perfume.
I want the freedom.
I want my son to experience things that I once only saw online.
I want to wake up and have options.
I want to work because I want to build, not because I am terrified of what happens if I don’t.
I want to be able to say yes without calculating the consequences and no without fearing financial collapse.
I want a life that feels expansive.
And I don’t think I need to apologize for that.
There are enough people in the world willing to tell women to want less.
Be realistic.
Don’t be too ambitious.
Don’t be too loud.
Don’t charge too much.
Don’t make people uncomfortable.
Don’t take up too much space.
Don’t travel too much.
Don’t prioritize yourself too much.
Don’t be difficult.
Don’t be intimidating.
Don’t be selfish.
Don’t ask for too much.
Don’t expect too much.
Don’t.
Don’t.
Don’t.
I’m tired of don’t.
I want do.
Do it.
Ask.
Pitch.
Build.
Create.
Charge.
Save.
Invest.
Travel.
Learn.
Move.
Leave.
Say no.
Say yes.
Try.
Fail.
Try again.
Expand.
Maybe the universe doesn’t reward good people.
Maybe it doesn’t reward bad people either.
Maybe it simply doesn’t care about our labels as much as we do.
Maybe life is full of consequences, incentives, opportunities and randomness, and our job is to participate consciously.
Maybe being kind doesn’t guarantee success.
Maybe being ruthless doesn’t guarantee it either.
Maybe the real advantage is becoming someone who can pursue what she wants without needing to betray herself or anyone else in the process.
That is the kind of woman I want to become.
Someone who can be generous without being gullible.
Soft without being easy to manipulate.
Kind without being compliant.
Ambitious without being cruel.
Powerful without needing to dominate.
Selfish without being harmful.
Open without being indiscriminate.
Disciplined without being miserable.
Free without running away.
Abundant without needing to prove it.
And if that makes me difficult?
So be it.
If someone thinks I’m too ambitious?
Okay.
If someone doesn’t like my prices?
They can leave.
If someone doesn’t like my boundaries?
They don’t have to cross them.
If someone thinks I have changed?
I hope so.
I am supposed to.
The phone is charging now.
The room is still dark.
Nothing around me has magically changed because I had this realization.
Tomorrow I will still have work to do.
There will still be invoices.
There will still be content to create.
There will still be customers.
There will still be numbers.
There will still be things that don’t work.
But something inside me feels different.
Not louder.
Clearer.
I don’t need to become a villain to get what I want.
I don’t need to become heartless.
I don’t need to step on people.
I don’t need to manipulate.
I don’t need to hurt anyone.
I simply need to stop standing in my own way because I am afraid of being perceived as difficult.
I can be a good woman and still be formidable.
I can have a soft heart and hard boundaries.
I can help people and still put myself first sometimes.
I can love people and still choose myself.
I can be generous and still expect payment.
I can be compassionate and still walk away.
I can be ambitious and still sleep peacefully at night.
I can want a lot without taking it from anybody.
And perhaps that is the experiment I am actually interested in.
Not How selfish can I become?
But:
How much can I build when I stop apologizing for wanting more?
How far can I take this business?
How much money can I make ethically?
How many people can I reach?
How many opportunities can I create?
How beautiful can I make my home?
How much can I travel?
How much can I learn?
How much can I give without emptying myself?
How much freedom can I create?
How expansive can my life become?
I don’t know.
And I love that I don’t know.
Because for once, I don’t want a ceiling.
I want to find it.
And then I want to see whether I can move it.
So yes.
I am going to steal their audacity.
I’ll leave the cruelty behind.
I’ll leave the manipulation behind.
I’ll leave the need to win at someone else’s expense behind.
But the nerve?
The confidence?
The willingness to ask?
The willingness to walk away?
The willingness to take the opportunity?
The willingness to be seen?
The willingness to want something badly enough to actually pursue it?
That part is mine now.
I don’t need to become a colder woman.
I don’t need to become a harder woman.
I just need to become a woman who is incredibly hard to stop.
And I think I’m finally ready to see just how far that woman can go.
