You Got Them Shook (And That’s Not Your Problem)”
Let’s get one thing straight right out the gate: people are rarely jealous of your stuff. Not your car, your job, your clothes, or even your cheekbones that can slice through generational trauma. No, what rattles their cage isn’t material—it’s metaphysical. It’s your energy. Your presence. That unteachable, unshakeable you-ness that walks into a room before your physical body does.
And let me be clear—this isn’t some fluffy self-help meme fluffing your ego with sparkly glitter words. I’m talking about real frequency. Real electricity. The kind of current that shocks people out of their comfort zones just by existing near you. You ever notice how your joy makes some people twitchy? How your peace pisses off someone who hasn’t known stillness in decades? That’s because your alignment is a mirror. And not everyone’s ready to look.
It’s not about being better. It’s about being free. And nothing is more threatening to someone still living in their own mental prison than the sight of someone who picked the lock and danced out barefoot, smiling, and completely unbothered.
See, your light reminds people of the work they haven’t done. Your growth makes their stagnation feel itchy. Your refusal to shrink makes them question all the times they did. And if they’ve built their whole identity around being the safe, small, predictable version of themselves, you walking around like a damn firework in daylight can feel… personally offensive.
But here’s the kicker: that’s not your problem.
You’re not responsible for how your shine makes other people squint.
Let them be shook. Let them stew in that sacred discomfort. You might’ve just triggered a dormant part of them that’s been begging to wake up. Maybe your audacity to live loud is the slap their soul needed.
But don’t you dare dim down to keep the peace. Don’t shrink to make yourself more palatable. Don’t wrap your lightning in bubble wrap so someone else can stay asleep.
You are not here to babysit anyone’s insecurities.
You are here to be fully, wildly, unapologetically you.
So keep going.
Keep loving like you mean it. Keep laughing too loud. Keep dressing like your soul picked your outfit. Keep walking into rooms with that quiet storm of self-knowing. Keep telling the truth even when your voice shakes. Keep choosing peace over pettiness—but don’t confuse that with silence.
Because the ones who get it? They’ll feel you coming like a shift in the weather. And the ones who don’t? Well, let them gossip in lowercase letters while you live in bold.
They’re not jealous of your things. They’re haunted by the reminder that they could be more, do more, feel more—but haven’t yet.
You got them shook. And honestly? Good.
Now go be brilliant. And leave the dimmers to figure out their own switch.