The Ultimate Power of Being Done

POV: I’m done with authority. Completely done.

The whole concept of someone else reigning over me, telling me how to live, who to be, what to believe… I’ve played that game for lifetimes and it didn’t end well. This time around, things are different. This time, I say what needs to be said. If that chops off my head again, so be it.

I’m not here to be safe. I’m here to be fully present in a way no system can override anymore.

Ninety-nine percent of people will think I’m weird. Fine. I’m not here for them. I’m here for myself, my family, and that one percent who feel something crack open inside when someone speaks without bending.

And let’s not romanticise it. I still feel fear. Often. I just press publish anyway.

Speaking your truth should be normal. Not exceptional. Not risky. Just normal.

Every person who chooses to do it helps someone else remember they can too. That’s how balance shifts. Not through new systems or louder structures, but through people choosing to be real. When I stand in my truth, it creates space for others to stand in theirs.

I know that makes people uncomfortable around me sometimes. So be it. My bottom drive is love, not hate.

Speaking clearly can unsettle people. It’s rarely your words that frighten them. It’s the way your clarity loosens the structures they’ve been leaning on. When you speak without bending, something inside them shifts. The story they’ve been holding onto starts to tremble. And that can feel like danger when you’ve built your life around keeping things steady and familiar.

Keeping the peace. Staying safe.

But speaking your truth in a loving and sovereign way does not add to polarization. It adds nuance. A million extra colours instead of just black or white, pro or con.

Your words are not the threat.

For some people, honesty feels like exposure. Like suddenly there’s nowhere left to hide. That makes sense. We come from eras of inquisition, witch hunts, guillotines, slavery, oppression. Those histories left marks in our nervous systems and our bones. This takes practice. Training that muscle can sting.

Not everyone is ready.

And not everyone is meant to walk beside you or approve of everything you say or do. Let’s bring back healthy disagreement. Since when did that become illegal?

Your job is not to soften your voice so others can stay comfortable. You’re here to live what’s real for you. The people who are meant for you will recognise themselves. They find you faster when you show your true colours. I learned that in real time.

I sometimes struggle with sharing my story online too. Not because I don’t want to be honest, but because I don’t want it to become a performance. That’s real. And yes, it has backfired. It triggers some. And my inner good girl still twitches when she feels disliked.

That’s a muscle too.

It hurts at first. It gets stronger.

Here’s what I realised: I share my stories so you can recognise yourself. Not to centre me, but so that if something I’ve lived through helps you breathe easier, feel less strange, or remember you’re not alone in how you move through this world, then it was worth it.

I’m here to connect.

I don’t feel the need to perform my life for anyone. I have nothing to prove. I’m not trying to look enlightened, polished, ascended, or above anything. The thing I offer is the thing I am living. Alongside you.

I’m human. I laugh. I cry the ugly, snotty kind. I’m a raging dragon more than once a day, and I can be deeply gentle too. I mess things up. I do brilliant things. It’s the same movement.

I live in a good, healthy body on this planet. Not supermodel good. Not Olympic good. But strong enough to grow three beautiful children and litres and litres of full-fat milk. I am madly proud of that. I need warmth, good food, shelter, sleep, love, and yes, money and beautiful earthly things. I’m not pretending otherwise.

I’m not here to float above life. I’m here to embody my little magical godspark on earth.

And embodiment is where my work lives. In the real. In the grounded. In the moments that ask you to show up, especially when it’s uncomfortable.

Somewhere in the middle of this messy, beautiful human life, I’m finding my way and my mission. Navigating the same dense system you are, without trying to escape it. I don’t do role-play. I don’t rescue. I don’t override.

People move because they feel safe enough to see themselves. I won’t call you out. I won’t do the work for you. You’ll have the aha moment yourself.

That’s the deal. And it’s thrilling. And lighter than you think.

Being done with authority is not rebellion. It’s clarity. It’s the moment you stop outsourcing your compass. The moment you realise you don’t need a new hierarchy, just your own spine.

For those who are done pretending. Done shrinking. Done carrying expectations that were never yours.

It’s time.

Time to stand inside your own life. Time to own the game from the inside out.

Each of us. Together, but sovereign.

If you step into my space, I won’t fix you. I’ll hold the mirror steady. You’ll see yourself. And once you see yourself clearly, you move. Not because I pushed you, but because you’re ready.

This round on earth is different, and you know it.

We are different. Less willing to comply out of habit. More willing to choose consciously.

Our children are wired different, for sure.

If something in you sits up a little straighter reading this, that’s not inspiration. That’s recognition.

Come closer if you’re ready to stand in it.

Love, Annemarijn