Oh, they said I was too much—
too confident, too sensual, too sure—
and I smiled, glossed my lips,
and whispered, Darling, that’s the point.
I expand.
I enter a room and the air takes notice.
Mirrors lean forward just to catch a glimpse.
Even the sun peeks out like—
Who gave her permission?
The bravery of self-promotion?
Please.
It’s not arrogance—
It’s sacred recognition.
It’s me finally seeing myself as God intended:
radiant, refined, regal.
Not waiting for applause,
because I am the show.
The masterpiece.
The headline—
in bold gold font.
I’ve learned to be wildly attractive—
not just to people,
but to purpose, to pleasure, to peace.
Everywhere I go, the universe flirts back.
My aura hums in frequencies of yes.
My laughter turns corners into catwalks.
My confidence? A spell.
My stride? A sermon.
My ancestors smile now—
I feel them behind me,
kissing my crown,
anointing my path with rose oil and thunder,
whispering, Walk, baby. We fought for this.
And so I do—
head high, hips holy,
heart ungovernable.
Everything that doesn’t belong in my elevation
falls away—gracefully,
like petals that once served their bloom.
And I?
I keep glowing.
Differently.
Deliberately.
Divinely.
Because when you bet on yourself,
The universe folds the odds in your favor.
And when you remember who you are—
everything not aligned
simply disappears–
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Healing Majestically 