When you choose yourself, you become the villain

Letters From The In-Between: When You Choose Yourself, You Become The Villain.

​Vanessa Santos

{{ subscriber.first_name }}, Listen to this letter on Spotify / Apple 🎧 plus a reflection at the end.

When you choose yourself, you become the villain in someone else's story.

Not because you did something wrong, even though they'll make you feel like you did. But because you stopped playing the role they needed you to play. The good daughter. The easy friend. The "ride or die". The one who always says yes.

And when you stop playing a role? They don't ask why. They don't check on your truth. They just decide you've changed. That you're different now. That you're not who you used to be.

They're right. You're not the same person anymore.

But that doesn't make it hurt less.

I spoke on a panel last week. Afterward, woman after woman came up to me with the same story.

Feeling alone in their building journey. Realizing that people they thought were friends chose a narrative over actually knowing them. Wondering why women get punished for finally honoring themselves.

And I kept thinking: loneliness isn't about being alone. It's about feeling unseen.

Being seen isn't about being looked at. It's about being understood. And once someone has made up their mind about the role you're meant to play in their story, they will misunderstand you.

I told a close friend recently that I've been feeling lonely.

Rebuilding a life. Building a business. Trying not to drop the ball on relationships. Mourning the old version of myself. Grieving the friends who didn't want to know this new one. Caring for my senior boys.

It's a lot.

And I think this is why so many brilliant people feel stuck. Our brains quantify every potential scenario. We consider everyone. We carry everyone.

When you consider everyone's needs but your own, you become something to everyone, and no one to yourself.

So be the black sheep. Be the villain in their story.

You can have a good heart. Be a good person. And people will still dislike you.

That's not a reflection of your worth. That's a reflection of their capacity of understanding.

Loneliness is temporary. Self-abandonment lasts forever.

One of the greatest lessons I learned is that your immediate, close circle matters. How they think, their energetic output, their capacity for understanding, it can give your ideas wings or make you doubt yourself. Don't let them.

Choose yourself anyway.

The antidote to being misunderstood by the wrong people is being deeply known by the right ones.

This is why I built The Table. Because I want to build with those who aren't trying to live up to anyone else's expectations but their own.

It's Intimate. Virtual. We build together.

​Join The Table →​

Somewhere along the way, I let my self-worth be dictated by how others saw me.

Not anymore. When you stop trying to fit into someone else's narrative, you stop negotiating with who you came to be.

You're not for everyone. And that's the whole fucking point.

Until the next letter.

Vanessa

P.S. Every letter has an audio version with a reflection at the end, the unguarded stuff. Listen Here.

P.P.S. Our next Glow Up session is March 19th. We're going to get to know each other better in this session. If you haven't joined yet, you can sign up here.

These letters are for women and allies who refuse to abandon themselves on the way to success.

But if it is, welcome to the syndicate.