The Type of Activism You Don't Hear About
And why that might be the loudest protest no one sees coming
You’ve been waiting for something.
At first, you think you’ve been waiting for someone else to lead. A boss. A partner. A teacher. A guru. A system. A hero.
Someone to tell you what to do, and when to do it. You wait for someone to hand you a permission slip to step forward, to remind you of your worth, to show you what’s possible.
Permission to shine. Permission to lead. Permission to live in a way that feels true.
You wait, and wait, and wait.
And while you wait, you try some for size, but nothing ever sticks. Not for long, at least. The world never seems to quite hand you that permission slip you’re looking for.
Maybe one day you stop waiting.
For me, it stopped when I decided I didn’t want to play along anymore.
I used to point fingers at the world for its chaos, at people for their choices, at systems for their failures. Sometimes the blame felt justified. But the world doesn’t change when we point fingers.
Because blame is a borrowed language.
We learn it young — how to spot fault, how to assign guilt, how to shield ourselves by deflecting our pain onto others.
Blame may feel like power, but it’s not. It’s inherited armor, passed down through generations who didn’t know another way to stay safe. And like all inherited armor, it’s heavy, it’s clunky, and it’s not really yours.
Once I saw it from what it was, I couldn’t unsee it.
Blame might have shielded me, but it also kept me from stepping into my own power — the kind that changes what actually can be changed: myself. My perspective. The way I move through the world. How I hold space for others, and have compassion for my own experience.
That realization was both uncomfortable and liberating. Because if I’m no longer waiting for the world to change, then I have to face the ways I’ve been unconsciously contributing to its dysfunction.
I have to take responsibility for what’s mine, for what I have control over (myself) and then choose better.
That’s self-leadership — and it doesn’t come by controlling everything around you, but by reclaiming what’s always been yours — your choice to show up differently. To live in integrity with who you are, which in a way, it’s own form of activism.
Activism Is Not Always Loud
Owning my part in the system changed everything — including how I saw advocacy itself.
For the longest time I struggle with the idea of activism. After all, we need voices raised against injustice, movements that challenge what’s broken, and people who push against the walls of old systems.
But for me, that noise was too much. My sensitive soul couldn’t survive the constant clamor. Adding my pain to the suffering now felt out of alignment.
Instead of forcing myself to adapt, I realized my sensitivity had a role too. And it wasn’t to be the voice that shouts over the noise, but the presence that steadies in silence. My revolution wasn’t outside. It was within.
I became an Activator.
Being an activator isn’t about fixing the world. It isn’t about demanding change from broken systems or shouting louder than the noise. It’s about becoming the change on the inside, so the outside has no other choice but to respond.
An activator’s megaphone is presence.
It’s authenticity and self-leadership.
A sovereign way of saying: I choose to live awake, even when the world is asleep.
And when I began living more consciously, I noticed the seeds of change finally sprouting.
Because when you embody awareness, you give others permission to do the same. When you choose authenticity, you light up a path for someone else to shine their truth. And when you walk in sovereignty, you remind the collective that freedom is an inner state before it’s an outer reality.
That’s what this word means to me. That’s why I created this design. A mirror to remember.
True leadership — the kind that transforms — begins inside. It begins when you stop outsourcing your power to a savior. It begins when you take responsibility for your inner world, even when the outer world hasn’t changed yet.
What It Means to Activate
To activate is not to rescue. It’s not to chase or convince. It’s not to shout louder than everyone else.
To activate is to embody.
It’s when you pause in the middle of an emotional spiral from witnessing the pain in the world, and instead of letting it consume you, you breathe yourself back into presence.
It’s when you stay true to your authenticity, when you choose belonging within over fitting in with someone else, even if it costs you their approval.
It’s when you say no — not out of resistance, but because you trust your power to do so.
Every small moment of choosing differently is an activation. And each one ripples outward, reminding others that they too can live aligned with their truth.
That’s the gift of being an Activator.
Someone Awakening Consciousness.
You don’t inspire others by forcing them to change. You can only inspire them by living as yourself.
You lead by resonance.
This design came from that remembering. For so long, I thought if only I could fix the world “out there,” I would finally feel safe inside. But I learned that true safety wasn’t found in control.
It was found in showing up for myself — in following through on my self-promises, over and again, and investing my time creating the reality I want to live in.
Sovereignty over compliance.
Authenticity over performance.
Presence over distraction.
You Are Already Doing It
Think about it.
The last time you didn’t people-please, even though the old script told you to. When you resisted the urge to over-explain, and let your silence be enough. Or you stopped asking, “Who will approve of this?” and instead asked, “Is this even true for me?”
Those were activations. And whether you noticed or not, the people around you felt it.
Authenticity wakes people up. It stirs something in them. It calls them back to themselves, too.
That’s what it means to activate: you embody the possibility of another way.
So stop waiting for permission.
Stop chasing validation.
Stop carrying armors that you no longer need to hold.
And you remember that self-leadership is enough.
That your authenticity is the gift.
And that your sovereignty is a quiet revolution.
You are already an activator. Every breath that brings you back to presence. Every choice that honors your truth. Every time you stand in your light without needing applause.
That is your power. That is your leadership. That is your light.
Shine on,
Fellow EarthShiner