Ever since we can remember, we watched our parents go to work. They weren’t happy, but they did what they “had” to do. They did what was expected of them, and they never questioned it. It was just “the way it was.” And we were brought up in the same paradigm. The pursuit of diplomas, spouses, houses, money, success, doctors, and nicer coffins became the norm. It’s just how it is here. “That’s the way of the world.” “It’s how things work,” we were told. “Nothing you can do to change it,” said our parents. If you were anything like me, you watched the spark of life slowly but surely get extinguished in your parents eyes. And suddenly, they deemed themselves old. Now they had to behave differently, have difficulties, slow down, stay home, watch TV, and make doctors their best buddies—because that’s just the way it is.
You look around at work, and the same paradigm is unfolding for your coworkers—or worse. And here you are, standing there, feeling like a tennis ball on a football field. Nothing makes sense to you, yet everyone around you is following the same pattern. So you start to question yourself. Something must be wrong with me. How is this normal? How is this insanity around me called “normal life”? Must be me, since everyone else seems to be keeping up with the Joneses. I said me—the infamous I. I, me, mine, myself. Yet… hmm?
First, a question: Who are you? Do you truly know? Or do you simply accept what was programmed into you—by your parents, friends, the education system, society, religion? What if the story you’re living wasn’t written by you? What if you’re just following a path that was already laid out, fulfilling a script written by someone else? And what if the world around you is full of people acting out narratives they never chose—but believed in anyway?
Scrolling through LinkedIn is usually a grueling experience for me. The fakeness of all the “success”—the great jobs, promotions, business suits that make us look smart, perfect things we display for the world to see—is as empty as it gets. Don’t worry, I have one too. It looks like that, for the sake of argument. But that is not me. That’s the mask I wear to keep the bots at bay.
This is me.
The anomaly in the system. The crack in the machine of suppression and oppression of truth. I refuse to be a work slave who is born, goes to school, gets married, pays taxes, has kids, gets sick, and dies—no matter how “successful” that life may appear. Success usually translates to job titles and income brackets. I want freedom. Ultimate freedom. Freedom from all forms. The freedom of being instead of having to be something. In the decision to just be, one becomes everything and anything. Never locked into a construct. Never lingering. But ever-changing and moving as one desires. I know that is my birthright—because I chose it.
Don’t get me wrong—if you choose to chase money, fame, the limelight, and the applause of the crowd, all power to you. If that truly satisfies you, by all means, pursue it. We can’t all be catalysts for change, and we don’t need to be. As long as you’re dancing to your own music, you’ll be all right. But the moment the orchestra starts demanding you change your tune, up your game, compete because someone else is catching up –stop and think.
If you’re one of those who hears the quiet whisper in your soul saying, “This isn’t me…” and even further, “This world doesn’t seem right…” Then you’re not alone. The way society works doesn’t seem right. The person I was expected to be never felt like me. It all felt like I was a character in a play, but I’d lost the script. I spent years searching for it—the formula for a happy, fulfilled life. I read hundreds of books and absorbed the teachings of every teacher, mystery school, religion, and guru I could find. I hoped one of them held the missing pages that would finally tell me who I was, how to play this game, and why I was even playing it. For decades, I was a diligent student of other people’s stories. I tried to live by their blueprints, believing that if I just followed the right path, I would finally feel at home. But all the searching led to the same soul-deep whisper: “This isn’t me.” And then the truth hit me:
I wasn’t broken. The story was.
The person you think you are isn’t who you are. It’s an identity built on old narratives, outdated beliefs, and other people’s expectations. You are not stuck. You are not limited by your past stories or habits. The moment you realize you’re living someone else’s narrative is the moment you can take back the pen and begin to write your own. You have the power to create—and recreate—yourself again and again.
No one else can tell you who you are, why you came here, or what you came to do. Only you know. And if you’re asking the questions, it means you already hold the answers. Yes, reading and sharing knowledge adds to your wisdom. But ultimately, everything you ever needed and ever will need is within you. Social programming taught us to bury it. To forget. To write it off as “woo-woo” spiritual nonsense—something for New Agers, religious fanatics, or mystical philosophers. Not something for real people with real lives and bills to pay. They tell you to stay grounded in “reality,” while simultaneously programming what they want that reality to be—using you to help manifest it. But you have the right to do, be, and have whatever you wish.
With one caveat: As long as your intention is not to harm. If your aim is to add to the totality of life, even within the game, you’re already on the winning team. The other option may seem easier. It might even bring you temporary satisfaction. But it will ultimately lead to your own collapse.
I’d like to make one thing clear: I am no master teacher—just someone who is a few steps ahead. But you can catch up with me in a second if you so decide. Not one of us still in the game has reached our peak. We will, though. We are steadily walking the path toward it. It will happen—one fine moment of pure timelessness in this game of time—and we will be gone, back to truth. Not yet. Not this moment. For now, we share. We expand. We assist.
The Four-Part Process of Rewriting Yourself
The journey of returning to self is not a quick fix. It’s not linear. It’s the peeling of an onion—layer after layer. But at its core, it can be distilled into four phases:
Phase 1: Awareness — Waking Up to the Story
The first step is realizing you’re living in a story you didn’t write. It’s hearing those voices in your head: “You can’t…” “That’s not how it’s done…” and asking: “Where did I get that belief?” It’s the courage to peel back the layers—not to judge, but to understand. To realize the world runs on collective narratives, and you are a conscious anomaly.
Phase 2: Conscious Decision — Claiming Your Power
Awareness without decision is just information. The turning point is choosing to stop negotiating with your old story. It’s standing before the version of yourself that got you this far and saying, “Thank you… but I’m ready to write my own narrative now.” This is sovereignty. This is picking up the pen and stepping fully into authorship of your reality.
Phase 3: Action — Building Your New Reality
A decision without action is just a wish. Real transformation happens when you begin taking tangible steps to align your life with your new identity. It’s not about grand gestures. It’s about consistent, intentional movement. The daily practice of unlearning and rewiring. The moment-by-moment choice to live in integrity with your soul.
Phase 4: Eliminating Doubt — Claiming Your Truth
Doubt is the ghost of your old story. It will try to pull you back. You must learn to recognize it and stop investing your life force into it. Ask not, “When will it happen for me? Why hasn’t it happened yet?…” Ask instead, “Why not?” Your belief is the fuel for your transformation.
I’ve lived this process. My journey has become my purpose. I’m here to help others find their way—not by giving them answers, but by reminding them where the answers live: inside. That’s why I created Enter the Portal: Rewrite Yourself—a space to begin your journey with support.
Your next chapter begins the moment you say yes to yourself. If you feel the pull to change, to shed old stories, and step into the truth of who you really are—I’m here to walk beside you.
Your first 30-minute consultation is completely free. No pressure. Just connection.
Astra Aeternum X 
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