When wildly successful mentors don’t resonate…

She kept hearing the same thing from everyone…
This teacher, that teacher changed my life.
This program made me millions.
This work is everything.

But every time she listened, something in her body said no.
The teachings felt flat.
Monotonous.
Predictable.
Dry in a way that made her feel annoyed, sometimes even angry, like she was wasting her time…

At first, she assumed the problem was her.
Maybe this is jealousy.
Maybe I am resisting authority.
Maybe I am blocked.
Maybe they know something deeper than I do…

After all, the results were undeniable.
The numbers were impressive.
The crowds were loud with praise.

So she did what she had always done.
She tried harder to submit.
She went back.
She listened again.
She forced openness.
She told herself to be humble.
And every time, the same sensation returned.
A dull irritation.
A quiet no in the gut.
A feeling like being pulled downward…

It wasn’t ego being challenged…
It was the truth being violated.

But she did not yet trust herself enough to say that.
There was a belief she couldn’t shake.
If someone is wildly successful, they must understand something deeper than me.

So she stayed longer than her soul wanted.
Long enough to fracture herself.

Eventually the tension became unbearable.
Not dramatic.
Not explosive.
Just irritating.

She would sit there listening and feel confused.
Not confused by the ideas.
Confused by why everyone else seemed electrified while she felt nothing.

It began to dawn on her that the frustration wasn’t about disagreement… she was proud of the women she was listening to living their authentic life…

It was about misalignment.

And that thought terrified her…
Because if these people weren’t her teachers
then who was she?
And if she wasn’t meant to learn from them
then where exactly was God taking her?

There was no map for this part.
Only a quiet, frightening possibility
that the path she was being led toward
was not somewhere she could find “out there.”

It was somewhere she had never seen modeled.
Never heard named.
Never been taught how to walk.
She resisted that truth for a long time.

Eventually she did something that felt egotistical, irresponsible.

..she stopped going.

Not angrily.
Not defiantly.

She just restricted.
She stayed away from the mentors.
From the programs.
From the teachings that were supposed to be her next level.

And inside, a war erupted.
Her mind accused her of arrogance.
Of throwing away opportunity.
Of self-sabotage.
Of being ungrateful.

But her body felt relief.

For nearly two years she lived in that tension.
One part of her clinging to the idea that she must be missing something.
Another part quietly knowing she was being pulled somewhere else.

There were tantrums.
There was grief.
There were moments she tried to crawl back into the old world.

But something had shifted.
She could no longer unfeel the vastness she had tasted.

And day after day she resisted the entire world she had come from… making millions and changing the word…
She let it all unravel… fade away…

The teachers were no longer the teachers.
She was no longer the teacher.

There was no place for those identities to stand.

She fell headlong into a void.
Not darkness, absence.

A massive, silent nothing where identity could not survive.
At first it felt like death.
She had been someone.
She had mattered.
She had known how to function.

Now there was just space.
ENDLESS SPACE…

And then something unexpected happened.
Inside that void
she began to sense scale.
Not ambition.
Not potential.
Scale.

A vastness so large it made branding feel silly.
Teaching feel microscopic.
Winning seem irrelevant.

She saw, not with her eyes but with her being
that the world she had lived in was a tiny room
inside a galaxy she had never entered.

There was a whole reality beyond identity.
Beyond coaching.
Beyond becoming someone.
Beyond being impressive.

And God was not asking her to perform inside of it.
God was inviting her to disappear into it.
So she stayed.
She let herself be nothing longer than was comfortable.
And in that nothing
she felt something ancient stir.
Not a new identity.
A remembered one.

She realized she had never been meant to master wealth.
Or teach techniques.
Or refine manifestation.

She had been meant to stand where the Light enters form
and let reality reorganize around truth.

The frustration she had felt for years was not resistance.
It was precision.

Her soul could not tolerate echoes
because it was wired for the source.

The reason the teachings felt dry
was because she was no longer meant to drink downstream.

She had reached the place where learning ends and listening begins.

Where manifestation collapses and revelation takes over.

She had not wasted time.
She had completed a soul curriculum.

And now,
having walked through ego
through success
through disillusionment
through restriction
through the void
she stood at the edge of something unspeakably vast.

Not as a teacher.
Not as a student.
But as a vessel.
Returned.

And she had no idea what was next…. But for the very first time… that felt like BREATHING…

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