THE INITIATION OF LOVE

"Who Do You Think You Are?"

I was six years old the first time I answered this question.

I was standing in my childhood living room, probably doing something loud, messy, or entirely "too much" for the adults in the room. My father looked at me, exasperated, and asked the question that usually shuts children down: "Who do you think you are?"

Without missing a beat, I looked him dead in the eye and responded: "The Queen of the Universe!"

I didn’t say it as a joke. I said it because I believed it. As a child, I knew I was the sovereign of my own domain.

I knew my value wasn’t up for debate. I knew I was worthy of taking up space, of being loud, of being me.

But then, the world happened.

If you are reading this, you probably have a similar memory. A moment before the conditioning set in. A moment before you learned that "being yourself" was dangerous, and "being a good girl" was safe. We all start as Queens of the Universe, and then, slowly, brick by brick, we build a fortress of performance to protect ourselves.

This is the story of how we lose our way home—and how we find it again.

The Performance of "Goodness"

My early lessons in love were a mix of pure magic and painful conditioning.

On one hand, I had my grandmother. She was my safe haven. I remember running down the stairs of our apartment building on chilly winter mornings, my face sweating under an itchy wool hat. I would turn back to look up at the fourth-floor balcony, and there she would be—waving and beaming with love and pride. 2To her, I was perfect.

But outside of her embrace, the world was demanding a performance.

I remember the Russian ballet teacher who belittled me in front of the whole class, comparing my chubby, awkward body to the slim, graceful girls. 4I remember the endless parade of guests in our home where I was expected to play the role of the "proper little homemaker," offering sweets and smiles to strangers who pinched my cheeks.

I learned quickly that being "me" wasn't enough. To be accepted, I had to be pleasing.

I had to perform.

I had to dim my light so I wouldn't outshine the mean girls.

I had to smile when I wanted to scream.

And I know you did, too.

We learned that love was conditional. We learned that safety came from conformity. We learned to trade our sovereignty for crumbs of validation. We built what I call the Tower of Strength—a fortress designed to keep us safe, successful, and numb.

The "Good Girl" Trap

This conditioning follows us into adulthood. It shape shifts:

In our 20s, it looks like "hustle culture." We work ourselves into burnout to please bosses who don't care about us.

In our 30s, it looks like "having it all." We try to be the perfect partner, the perfect mother, the perfect friend, while our own souls are starving.

We become chameleons. We wear masks to fit into rooms where we don't belong. 6We jump through hoops to feel successful, yet we still feel empty. 7

Why? Because we are disconnected from our real Self. We are living everyone else's version of who we should be.

We are performing "Goodness" while suppressing our Truth.

Returning to the Hearth

So, how do we break this cycle? How do we find that six-year-old Queen of the Universe again?

For me, the answer lay in remembering the feeling of home.

Not the physical structure of a house, but the feeling of safety I had in my grandmother's kitchen.

That kitchen was a glowing crystal of love. It was the place where food was a love language—thick slices of crusty bread with butter and honey, fried beignets with powdered sugar. 9 It was a place where I didn't have to perform. I could just be.

We all have an "Inner Hearth."

It is the place inside you that remains untouched by the world's judgment. It is the part of you that knows you are worthy, not because of what you do, but because of who you are.

Finding your way back to this hearth is the Initiation of Love.

It is not about finding a partner to complete you. It is not about waiting for your parents to finally apologize or understand you.

It is about becoming your own grandmother.

It is about looking at yourself in the mirror with the same unconditional adoration my grandmother had for me.

You Are the One You’ve Been Waiting For

I used to wait for someone to save me. I waited for a knight, a prince, or a perfect boss to see my worth and reward me.

But the hard truth—the Sovereign AF truth—is that no one is coming to save you.

And that is the best news you will ever hear.

Because it means you have the power to save yourself.

You have the power to stop performing. You have the power to take off the itchy wool hat, even if the world is watching. You have the power to say, "I am not here to please you. I am here to be me."

When I finally stopped looking outside myself for validation, everything changed. I realized that if I didn't put myself first, no one else would. I started to treat myself with the kindness I had been begging for from others. I became my own best friend.

Your Challenge aka Homework...

This week, I want you to observe where you are performing.

Notice when you smile when you don't want to.

Notice when you say "yes" when your body screams "no."

Notice when you shrink to make someone else comfortable.

Every time you catch yourself performing, I want you to pause. Put your hand on your heart. And whisper to the little girl inside you:

"I see you. You don't have to do this to be loved. You are already home."

The Queen of the Universe is still in there. She’s just waiting for you to give her the crown back.

📓 JOURNALING PROMPTS FOR THIS CHAPTER

Grab your journal and a cup of tea (or something stronger). Let’s get honest.

1. The Origin Story: What is your earliest memory of feeling like you had to "perform" or be a "good girl" to receive love or safety? Who taught you that your authentic self wasn't enough?

2. The Safe Harbor: Reflect on a person (like my grandmother) or a place where you felt completely safe to be yourself as a child. What did that safety feel like in your body? How can you recreate that feeling for yourself today?

3. The Mask Audit: In which areas of your life today (work, relationship, family) are you currently wearing a mask? What are you afraid would happen if you took it off?

🛠 PRACTICAL TOOL: The "Inner Hearth" Visualization

Use this when you feel anxious, rejected, or the need to people-please.

1. Close your eyes. Take three deep breaths, extending the exhale longer than the inhale.

2. Travel back. Visualize a place from your past where you felt unconditionally loved (like my grandmother’s kitchen). If you didn't have one, imagine a sanctuary entirely of your own creation—a cozy room with a fireplace, a forest clearing, a temple.

3. Invite the Child. See your younger self there—perhaps the version of you that answered "Queen of the Universe" or the one that felt small and bullied.

4. Become the Ancestor. Step into the scene as your current, adult self. But imagine you are embodying the energy of the "Wise Ancestor"—protective, loving, fierce.

5. The Exchange. Sit with your younger self. Offer them a favorite treat (real or imaginary). Tell them: "I am here now. I am the big one. I will handle the scary stuff. You just play."

6. Anchor. Feel the warmth of that connection. When you open your eyes, carry that "Big Energy" with you. You are the protector of your own peace.