I Am My Kingdom: Reclaiming Freedom, Purpose, and Power

There’s a moment in every journey where you stop asking for permission—and start crowning yourself.

Not out of arrogance. Not out of ego. But out of the pure, undeniable truth that no one else can define your worth.

That’s the energy and spirit of true transformation.

Kingdom

A lifelong fan of WWE, I often find myself listening to the theme songs of wrestlers depending on my mood or motivation. Some songs inspire me. Some just amp me up. One in particular—Cody Rhodes’ theme, "Kingdom" by Downstait—is often the former.

Today, though, something hit differently.

Listening to the lyrics, I realized that, like Cody, I’m building my kingdom. In particular, the bridge reflected so much of what I’ve endured throughout my corporate life with attempts at control and silencing, and my recent shift in taking more control of my future.

You tried to tell me what to do (I saw the door and kicked it down)

I stepped right over and right through (And you can never stop me now)

Bow! Now! (I am the king and you're the clown)

Now watch me as I take my throne

And rule my kingdom

But now, as I'm moving further into my entrepreneurship path, I see how empowering these words are.

They Tried To Tell Me What To Do

Another theme that surfaced was from The Game by Motörhead—the line, “It’s all about the game and how you play it.”

They play the game to control you. It took me a long time to understand that—and even longer to stop being frustrated by the pawns playing their parts.

Only after finding real peace could I see the board for what it was: a game of power, ego, and insecurity. Petty people with powerful titles using the illusion of authority to suppress potential they couldn’t match, not because I challenged them directly, but because my existence—my excellence—exposed them.

I've had:

• A manager once, who promoted his less qualified friend to a supervisory position, simply to keep me from rising.

• A senior vice president who blocked raises and promotions, and eventually orchestrated my exit—not because of my performance, but because of what my potential threatened.

• A C-level executive who refused to promote me after years of proven work—and instead hired a less qualified outsider for the role I had earned.

Why would a senior executive fear a support-level staff member?

Because once I started advocating for myself, they realized they couldn’t contain me, they realized I saw through the structure they used to control others, and when I opened my eyes, they knew they couldn’t stop me.

I Stepped Right Over and Right Through

Before I reached a point of mental clarity, every frustration—every limitation placed on my talent and career progress—felt like a blow to my self-worth. I knew, deep down, that I didn’t need external validation to define who I was. But the constant invalidation still cut deep—demoralizing, defeating, and at times, depressing.

Until clarity came. When I finally saw through the illusions, everything became clear. Their pettiness. Their jealousy. Their insecurities. I was continually met with hate, negativity, and resistance—not because I failed, but because I excelled.

I realized it was never truly about me — it was about the fragility of their own egos. They clung to their titles because it was all they had. My existence, my excellence, exposed their inadequacies.

I didn’t even aspire to their positions—yet still, they felt threatened. Because where they saw scarcity, I embodied abundance. Where they used authority to control, I moved with compassion, humanity, and quiet leadership. Where they clung to outdated processes, I effortlessly found ways to improve, innovate, and rise.

And even though I never sought to displace them, my mere presence shattered their illusion of power. But that clarity brought me something even greater:

I realized I was never meant to climb a crumbling structure, hoping for scraps. I was meant to build something entirely my own. I was meant to create, to ascend—and...

Build My Kingdom

For much of my life, I always felt pulled toward entrepreneurship—even before I fully understood what it meant. I knew only this: I wanted to create; I wanted to build; I wanted to help others. But I didn’t yet know how to shape that calling. I didn’t yet know how to align my talents with my purpose.

I tried once—through the creation of YBE Magazine—a magazine about the Young Black Experience, dedicated to empowering young Black people to achieve success in all aspects of their lives. And while I didn’t see the massive success I had dreamed of, it wasn’t a failure. It was a beginning. It was a blueprint for everything that was still to come.

That experience, even in its struggles, fueled my fire for entrepreneurship. It taught me the real meaning of building something from the ground up. It taught me resilience, vision, strategy—and belief.

And now? That same foundation supports everything I’m creating:

🔹 This blog.

🔹 The creative writing projects.

🔹 The personal care brands.

🔹 The empire that is rising.

YBE wasn’t the end—it was the seed. The first stone in the kingdom I’m building now—one that will be undeniable. Because I am no longer waiting for someone else's validation. I am no longer asking permission to rise.

I am my kingdom.