Let Them Talk…

They don’t hate you.

They hate what you expose.

You walk in the room and suddenly they remember what they could’ve been if they didn’t quit on themselves.

That’s what pisses them off.

Not your tone.

Not your confidence.

Not your results.

They hate the fact that you don’t break in the places they still do. 

You could be kind.

You could be quiet.

You could be doing everything right and they’d still twist the narrative to make you the villain.

Because in their head…

you’re not a person.

You’re the fucking reminder that they settled…

…that they let go.

…that they got soft.

…that someone else kept climbing while they started defending mediocrity like it was a personality trait.

So they gossip.

They distort.

They project.

They cling to whatever flaw they can find and magnify it through the lens of their own self-hate.

…and if they can’t find one?

They’ll invent it.

Because it’s easier to cancel you

than confront themselves.

Let them talk.

Let them post.

Let them throw rocks from the comfort

of their uninspired little lives.

That’s all they’ve got.

What do you have?

You’ve got drive.

You’ve got dreams. 

You’ve got scars that came from actual fucking effort.

You’ve got excitement for the life you are building. 

Besides that…

The truth is..

You don’t owe them clarity.

You don’t owe them tone.

You don’t owe them access to the mindset they never earned.

You don’t owe them a motherfucking thing.

Let them stay mad.

Let them choke on your shadow while you keep building a life they’ll never be invited to understand.

They don’t hate you.

They hate the standard you live by.

So raise it.

#100to0