The Audacity of Knowing Who You Are

There’s a certain audacity in knowing who you are—and an even greater rebellion in refusing to dim it. Since I was a little girl, I’ve known I was different. Not better. Just other. I used to say I was from Mars n my mother would shoosh me . I've always looked to the stars with fascination of reaching such heights. My imagination was loud and living in that delusion made my presence louder. And I wore both with pride. By middle school, my friends and I called ourselves The Great Ones which made me “Kisha the Great.” A cheeky moniker, sure—but it fit. That Summer my dad heard or prolly read about it and you know what he said "Kisha the Great? TUH...you ain't all of that". How would you feel if your parent said such a thing to you?

In my head I was saying "Oh Dad" how cute of you trying to humble me **cue chuckle** And that moment stuck. Not because it changed me, but because he tried to make me less full of myself. And for that, I knew I was on the right track. This post is for anyone who’s ever been asked to soften their shine to soothe someone else’s discomfort. It’s about the bold, necessary act of not shrinking—even when the world hands you a box with a lid.

Knowing who you are isn’t just about confidence—it’s about clarity. It’s the quiet certainty that lives beneath the noise of opinions, expectations, and projections. It’s built over time, shaped by both joy and rejection, and anchored in self-trust. When you know who you are, you stop performing and start existing. You begin to move differently—not because you’re trying to prove anything, but because you have nothing to prove. It’s not arrogance. It’s alignment. And it’s the most grounded kind of power there is.

Figuring out how to define who you are isn’t a one-time thing—it’s an ongoing, evolving relationship with yourself. I can't teach it. We all that IT and express our signature of being IT in many different ways. I'm not different for attention nor obnoxiously loud looking for validation. I'm quite the opposite. I'm not what the world has told me to be and recognize the patterns in my passions along with what I stand firm on.

If you've ever been told you're “too much,” I hope you take that as confirmation that you are, in fact, enough—and then some. Being yourself, fully and out loud, is a risk. It might ruffle feathers. It might even distance you from people who only know how to love the watered-down version of you. But that’s not your burden to carry.

Call it confidence. Call it delusion. Call it cosmic alignment. I call it knowing who I am—and daring to stay that way.

Here’s to the audacity.

Here’s to the Great Ones!!