Low light.
Two cups on a table. One untouched.
She’s pacing. Not frantic — precise.
There’s a calm heat in her voice.

HER
(half-laughs, half-exhales)
You know what exhausts me?

People projecting their poverty mindset on me like it’s some kind of law of nature. That because it keeps them at bay in their own bubbles, it should work for me too. We were never meant to live in bubbles, but to embody the community like mindset of being in commune with every fractal. Not to create a community for ourselves, reason why the Heaven on Earth Failed. I realised I was trying to create a community I could lead, instead of attracting leaders to co-lead. But that’s another conversation.

It’s like…
because they can’t see the way through,
because they wouldn’t take the risk,
because they would settle for less —
somehow I’m meant to inherit that ceiling.

No.
That shit doesn’t work on me.

I don’t operate inside other people’s limitations.
I don’t metabolise their fear as my reality.
I don’t pause my life to make their scarcity feel comfortable.

Where they see “too much,”
I see not enough yet.

Where they see “impossible,”
I see not sourced yet.

And yeah — sometimes the solution comes last minute.
Sometimes the door opens when the room is already on fire.
Sometimes the money lands when the countdown is loud enough to scare everybody watching.

But here’s the part they never clock:

I still land where I aimed. Every time.

Not because I’m lucky.
Not because I’m reckless.
But because I don’t negotiate with limitation.

I don’t let other people’s smallness draft the architecture of my life.

(pauses, looks at the other person)

Honestly?
I’m waiting for the day people start projecting wealth on me.

Not because I need it —
but because it’ll finally feel coherent with how I see myself.

Because when people look at me and think:
“She’s going to figure it out.”
“She always lands on her feet.”
“She’s built for abundance.”

That belief actually greases the gears of reality.
It doesn’t create my success —
but it stops the process from needing to arrive at the last possible second.

People believing in you doesn’t make you powerful.
It just removes unnecessary friction.

And still —
if their projection fails,
if their belief wobbles,
if their plan for me collapses…

I will always be my own Plan B.

Always.

I let people be Plan A in colouring abundance into my life.
I let systems show up.
I let allies try.
I let opportunities walk in first.

But if Plan A flakes?
I step in.

Because the one thing I refuse to experience in this lifetime
is being stalled by someone else’s limited imagination of me.

(softens, but stays firm)

Where others see me as small,
I grow — not to prove them wrong,
but to remind the room that I was never small to begin with and prove myself right, before I ever forget who I am, under the shades of who they’d like me to be.

Their illusions were small.
Their hopes for me were small.
Their comfort with who they wanted me to be was small.

None of that is my narrative.

I know who I’ve been when nobody was watching.
I know what I’ve carried through rooms that tried to collapse me.
I know what I continue to choose to become
even when the path isn’t polite about it.

And here’s the twist they won’t see coming:

The day people start projecting abundance on me
is the day I show them why they could have trusted me all along.

Because then the equation flips.

Then I become their Plan A.
And they get to practice being my Plan B.

Which means they’ll finally have to think in two directions:

How do I move when she leads the abundance?
And what do I do with myself if I can’t keep up or she needs me to lead?

(smiles, calm and lethal)

Either way —
I’m not waiting for permission to live in overflow.

And I’m not shrinking to make anyone else feel safe in scarcity.

Not now.
Not ever.