My new favorite song is Golden [Demon Hunters]. Fell in love with it the 1st time I heard it and that happens only when the lyrics resonate with me..Â
There’s a line in the song that refuses to leave me: “I was a ghost, I was alone.”
Not in the dramatic, cinematic way. But in the quiet, everyday kind of disappearance.
The kind where you show up for everything—work, relationships, responsibilities—but somewhere along the way, you stop showing up for yourself.
The Ghost Years
I know what it feels like to live two lives.
One that is efficient, dependable, always “on.”
The other—quieter, messier, creative, questioning—kept waiting in the wings.
“I lived two lives, tried to play both sides
But I couldn’t find my own place.”
That line? It lands hard.
Because for a long time, I was the dependable one. The one who figured things out. The one who adjusted, adapted, absorbed.
In work, I shaped stories for brands. In life, I often softened my own.
And when you’re good at that—at holding space, at making things work—you don’t immediately realize what it costs you.
The “Problem Child” Energy
“Called a problem child ’cause I got too wild…”
There’s something deeply familiar about being too much.
Too opinionated.
Too emotional.
Too restless to just “be okay” with what is.
But here’s the reframe I’m learning to sit with:
That same “too much” is also where everything alive inside me exists.
It’s the reason I didn’t settle into a single definition of who I should be.
It’s why I’ve moved across industries, built something of my own, told stories that matter, and kept questioning—even when it would have been easier not to.
What was once labeled difficult is now… direction.
Learning to Believe the Throne Was Mine
“Given the throne, I didn’t know how to believe
I was the queen that I’m meant to be.”
Imposter syndrome doesn’t always look like fear.
Sometimes it looks like overworking. Overthinking. Overgiving.
I’ve built things. Led conversations. Created impact.
And still, there were moments I questioned whether I deserved to be in those rooms.
Not because I wasn’t capable.
But because somewhere along the way, I learned to earn my place—over and over again—instead of owning it.
That’s changing.
Slowly. Unevenly. But surely.
From Hiding to Shining
“I’m done hidin’, now I’m shinin’ like I’m born to be.”
This isn’t a dramatic transformation story.
There’s no overnight switch.
It looks like:
- Saying no without guilt (even when it’s uncomfortable)
- Building boundaries in relationships that matter
- Showing up as a founder, not just a service provider
- Writing not just for brands—but for myself
- Choosing peace over constant emotional labour
It’s quieter than a spotlight.
But it’s steadier.
Together, We Glow
“You know together we’re glowin’…”
For someone who has spent a lot of time being “the strong one,” this line feels different.
Because growth, I’m realizing, isn’t always solitary.
It’s in:
- The partner you’re still figuring things out with
- The friends who see you beyond your roles
- The communities you build through your work
- The small, everyday moments that remind you—you’re not doing life alone
Becoming Golden
“Gonna be, gonna be golden.”
Not perfect. Not finished. Not fully healed.
Just… more whole than before.
Less split between who I am and who I think I should be.
Less apologetic about my voice, my choices, my pace.
More willing to take up space—in my work, my relationships, my own life.
If I had to define what “golden” means to me now, it wouldn’t be success or visibility.
It would be this:
Not abandoning myself to make things easier for everyone else.
And maybe that’s the real shift—
from being a ghost in your own life…
to finally becoming visible to yourself…….Â
The one other song I loved before this was Unstoppable by Sia, yet another powerful song that still means a lot to me..
What’s your song?Â
