I’m writing this right after I woke up, typing on my phone, actually.

Well, it’s not like I slept well anyway. My mind’s been racing again, and maybe this is just my way of easing it. Putting thoughts into words always helps me breathe a little easier.

Lately, I’ve been thinking about something, how strange it is when all you want to do is grow, learn, and share, yet somehow, your presence makes someone else uncomfortable.

It makes me ask, quietly but painfully:

If you are so good, and they call you ‘experienced’… why do you feel threatened by me?

Why does it feel like competition, when all I ever wanted was collaboration?

And why give up, when the point was to lead, not to compare?

When I sense those giving-up vibes, I know, in their mind, they’ve already decided to lose the battle before even going to war.

I didn’t come to compete; I came to contribute.

If my strength feels like a threat, then maybe it’s not my strength that needs to change, maybe it’s their fear that needs to heal.

My energy has always been about contribution, not control. But maybe sometimes, that same fire, that drive and intensity, makes others see me differently.

Maybe they mistake passion for threat, confidence for arrogance, or boldness for rebellion.

I’ve learned that some people admire potential only until it starts to mirror their own insecurities. It’s never really about you; it’s about what your energy reflects back to them.

And that’s okay. I no longer take it personally.

Because growth has taught me that maturity isn’t about proving your worth, it’s about knowing it quietly, even when others can’t see it yet.

Still, that realization hurts. Because I’ve always believed that real leaders don’t dim others, they lift, they teach, they open doors for those who come after them.

That’s what experience should mean: not being above, but being beyond.

Sometimes, I feel people give up on understanding me too soon. Maybe my personality is big, my tone too direct, my thoughts too fast. But underneath it all, I mean well. My intentions are always rooted in sincerity, never in ego.

And yet, when you sense that shift, when encouragement turns into distance, you can’t help but retreat a little. You stop explaining yourself. You go quieter.

Not because you’re weak, but because you’ve learned that silence protects your peace better than any argument ever will.

So here I am again, choosing calm over chaos, understanding over reaction. Letting people think what they want, because I know who I am.

If my strength feels like a threat, then maybe it’s not my job to shrink, maybe it’s their fear that needs to heal.

Because real experience doesn’t get threatened, it inspires!

So I’ll keep doing what I’ve always done: showing up, giving my best, and staying kind, even when it’s not returned.

Because my worth isn’t defined by who feels uncomfortable around it, it’s defined by how I continue to rise, again and again, without losing my light.

“May my silence never be mistaken for surrender, it’s just my peace learning how to breathe.”

And now, I focus on my own path, my own growth, and my own becoming.

Because true confidence doesn’t compete, it contributes. Real experience doesn’t get shaken, it inspires.

And those who are truly secure never feel the need to silence another’s light.

~ Reendiana