Let Them Judge You & You Keep Shining

Power of Authenticity and Self-Love

Hello, beautiful souls. My name is Shaani, and I have learned what it means to walk in my truth even when the air is thick with judgement. For years, I carried the weight of expectations, the hunger for approval, and the ache of not feeling enough. My freedom has been a winding path, shaped by each moment I choose my own worth over the pull for outside approval. Some days that choice comes easily, like stepping into warm light after a long winter. Other days it feels like lifting my feet through deep snow, slow and heavy, unsure if I have the strength to keep going.

Each step forward is a small act of rebellion against the version of me that had been shaped by fear and conditioned to seek validation. There are moments I want to turn back, to shrink myself so the world will be quieter, but something inside refuses to let me. That refusal is my lifeline, the quiet voice that keeps saying, You belong here exactly as you are.

As I deepen into this knowing, I begin to sense a presence that always seems to be just behind me, steady and watchful. It appears in dreams, sometimes as a shadow in the snow, other times as eyes glinting in the half-light of dawn. I feel it in the still moments between breaths — an energy both fierce and calm, urging me to trust my instincts, keep my fire lit, and move with certainty no matter who is watching. That presence stays with me, a reminder that I am never walking alone when I am in my truth.

Authenticity, for me, is standing in my whole self without softening my edges to make others comfortable. It is meeting my own gaze and knowing I do not need to hide. It is moving through life with the quiet conviction that I am allowed to take up space. Self-love is the care and devotion that keeps me from abandoning myself when life gets hard. It is the warmth I return to when the world feels cold, the anchor that steadies me when outside noise tries to pull me off course. Together they form the shield that allows me to keep shining, even when the world offers misunderstanding or doubt.

There will always be voices that try to shrink what they do not understand. I have learned that those voices are not mine to carry. My work is to walk in alignment with who I am and to let my light speak for itself, knowing that the right eyes will see it and the right hearts will feel it.

Embracing Authenticity

Authenticity is not a mask I wear only when the moment feels safe. A quiet truth walks with me through every season of my life, rooted in knowing myself deeply, my values, my rhythms, my truths and refusing to abandon them for the comfort or approval of others.

I know what it feels like to bend myself into a shape I was never meant to hold. For years, I molded myself to fit into spaces that could not see me, telling myself that disappearing a little would keep me safe. Being seen felt dangerous, as if visibility meant vulnerability, and vulnerability meant harm. That molding was heavy. It pressed against my spirit until I could no longer hear the sound of my own voice.

Letting go is not a single leap into courage. It becomes a series of choices, some small and trembling, others bold and unwavering, each one chipping away at the false layers I was taught to wear. There are days when I step forward easily and days when I question everything. Yet with each choice, I can feel myself returning to the core of who I am.

As I walk more fully as myself, life begins to respond in ways I do not expect. The people who remain in my circle can see me clearly, and those who drift away create space for connections rooted in truth. My work is deepening, my relationships are growing roots, and I am feeling a quiet alignment in my spirit that I have long been searching for. The path is not always smooth, yet it is mine, shaped by my own hands and my own heart, and that makes every step worth taking.

To live this way means choosing my own voice over the crowd’s approval, again and again. It means listening to my instincts, even when they lead me away from what others believe is right for me. It means refusing to seek safety in shrinking. This is not only personal work. This is a spiritual discipline, a way of honoring the life I am given and the truth I am here to live.

Power of Self-Love

Self-love was not something I grew up seeing modeled in a way that felt real to me. For a long time, I tied my worth to what I could give, how well I could please, and how much I could endure without complaint. I measured myself against impossible standards, and when I inevitably fell short, I convinced myself I had to work harder to earn love, including my own. That way of living kept me running in circles, always chasing and never arriving.

Now I see self-love as the anchor that holds authenticity in place. Without it, I am pulled toward the approval of others, even when it takes me away from my truth. With it, I can stand in myself without apology. Loving myself is not a feeling I wait to have. It is a practice I choose daily, especially on the days when old doubts try to return.

Loving myself means making choices that honor my needs, even when those choices confuse or disappoint others. It means speaking to myself in ways that strengthen me instead of tearing me down. It means holding my own hand in the dark, not abandoning myself when the path gets steep.

I am learning that boundaries are not about keeping life out but about opening the door only to what nourishes me. I am learning that rest is not something to be earned and that joy is not a luxury. Every time I honor my needs, I deepen my trust in myself, and that trust makes it impossible for outside voices to define my worth.

If you are beginning your own self-love practice, start where you are. Speak one kind word to yourself each morning. Take five minutes of stillness before giving your energy away. Say no when your body says no. These small acts gather strength, and with time, you begin to notice how your own love for yourself reshapes the way the world meets you.

Overcoming Fear of Judgement

The fear of judgement is something I have known intimately. It was woven into the way I learned to move through the world, passed down in stories both spoken and unspoken. I watched how people silenced parts of themselves to stay safe, and I followed their example without even realizing it. For years, I measured my words, my actions, and even my presence against what I thought would make me acceptable.

It has taken time to untangle myself from that conditioning. I have come to see that much of the fear I carried was never mine to hold. Some of it belonged to my family. Some of it belonged to environments that taught me that visibility was dangerous. Letting go of that fear is an ongoing process, one that asks me to keep choosing my truth over someone else’s comfort.

I still feel the pull sometimes, that temptation to shrink so I will not stand out. It arrives as a tightening in my chest, a subtle curling inward of my shoulders, the kind of heaviness that once would have pulled me completely under. In the past, I would have let that wave swallow me whole, folding myself smaller and smaller until I could barely hear my own thoughts over the noise of doubt.

Now, when it rises, I notice it instead of obeying it. I feel the edges of it in my body, the quickened breath, the muscles bracing as if for impact and I let myself acknowledge that it’s here without letting it take over. I stay with the sensation just long enough to remind my body that it is safe to stand tall. I breathe deeper. I roll my shoulders back. I root my feet into the ground and feel the weight of my presence returning to me.

Then I pause and ask myself, What do I know to be true? That question is an anchor. It pulls me back from the swell of old fear and into the calm center of my knowing. My awareness shifts inward, toward the steady voice that has been with me all along — the only voice I can trust to guide me with clarity.

In that space, I can identify what is mine and what is not. I can feel the difference between energy that belongs to me and energy that has been projected onto me. When I sense that something is not mine, I release it before it settles. This is where my detachment skills activate— not as a wall to shut out the world, but as a conscious choice to carry only what is truly mine. That intentional separation keeps my spirit clear and my presence intact.

Every time I choose my truth over the weight of someone else’s opinion, the fear loosens its grip. I am no longer trying to explain myself to those who have no intention of understanding. I am letting my truth stand as it is, without apology. And with each choice, I feel lighter, stronger, and more at home in my own skin.

Incantation for Protection and Clarity

When the noise of the world grows too loud, I return to myself. I let my breath slow and deepen until I can feel the rise and fall in my chest. I notice where my body is holding tension, and I invite it to soften. My awareness expands beyond my skin so I can sense the space around me. In that space, I feel for the threads of energy that are not mine, the ones that cling or weigh me down, and I let them fall away.

This is not about shutting the world out. It is about calling my own energy back home, choosing what I carry with intention. As I release what is not mine, I feel my center strengthen. My boundaries become clear. My detachment becomes a sanctuary, not a prison. From here, I am ready to seal my space.

Short version

Shield me in the light of truth
Keep my heart steady and my spirit free
Let no word or shadow take my peace
Only love may reach me. Asé

Extended version

I stand rooted in my truth, wrapped in a shield of light that no judgement can pierce. I release the fear that does not belong to me and call my energy home, now. I feel the warmth of my own presence surround me, strong and unshakable. My mind is clear, my heart is steady, and my spirit moves freely. Only what is loving and aligned may enter my space. Everything else dissolves before it reaches me.

I walk forward untouched by the weight of negativity. My light remains. My power remains. My love remains. Thank you, Spirit. Àṣẹ.

Radical Acceptance

Radical Acceptance has taught me that fighting what already is only drains me. I do not have to like a reality to acknowledge that it exists. Acceptance is not about giving up my power, it is about choosing where my power goes. When I stop wrestling with what I cannot change, I free my energy to focus on the choices that are mine to make.

I feel it in my body when I am in resistance— the tightness and disruption in my solar plexus and sacral, the restless push in my chest, the way my breath shortens as if I could force life into a different shape by holding on harder. In the past, I would let that tension spiral, convincing myself that if I stayed in the fight long enough, I could control the outcome. Now, I notice it sooner. I pause. I breathe. I ask, What is mine to carry here, and what is not?

In that pause, I can feel the weight shift. I can sense which parts belong to me, the actions I can take, the boundaries I can hold, the love I can still choose to offer. I can also sense the heaviness that is not mine, the pieces I cannot control no matter how hard I try. Letting those go is not detachment out of indifference. It is detachment out of clarity.

When I accept myself fully, I stop spending my energy on battles that are outside of my control. I soften into my truth and make space for compassion— for myself, for others, and for the complexity of the moment. Acceptance brings me back to the ground beneath my feet. It reminds me that even in situations I cannot change, I can choose how I move through them. That choice shapes everything.

Radical Acceptance is not a one-time revelation. It is a continual practice, a way of meeting life as it is without abandoning who I am. And with each moment I practice it, I feel my presence grow steadier, my energy stay clearer, and my capacity for love and truth expand.

Staying Committed to Love

Love is not something I leave to chance. It is a choice I return to with intention, grace, passion and love, over and over, even when my mind wants to build walls or my body remembers old wounds. Staying committed to love does not mean overlooking harm or erasing my boundaries. It means holding my boundaries and my compassion in the same breath.

I notice how my body feels when love is present. My shoulders drop. My breath deepens. There is a warmth in my chest that spreads, steady and unhurried. When I am in that space, I can hear criticism without letting it pierce me, I can witness misunderstanding without letting it harden me. Love becomes my filter, my translator, my guide.

There are moments when choosing love feels like the most difficult thing. My instinct might be to protect myself by closing off completely. But I have learned that when I lead with love, I stay rooted in my own truth instead of getting pulled into someone else’s storm. Love does not mean I tolerate mistreatment. It means I choose not to mirror the energy that is trying to pull me out of alignment.

Staying committed to love is also about discernment. I know when to lean in, when to stand still, and when to walk away. Love informs each of those choices. Sometimes love looks like listening without defense. Sometimes it looks like silence. Sometimes it looks like a clear and final no.

Each time I choose love over reaction, I strengthen my center. My energy stays intact. My voice remains clear. And even in the face of judgement, I remember that my worth and my truth are untouched. Love allows me to keep shining without burning myself out.

So let them judge. Let them misunderstand. I will keep walking my path, tending my fire, and shining in the ways only I can. And I will keep teaching others to do the same, because the world needs every one of us in our truth, moving with clarity, courage, and love.

Ready to deepen your own journey of authenticity and self-love? Book a session with me here and let’s walk this path together in clarity, courage, and light.