The Invisibility of Strength

The Invisibility of Strength

Why My Light Isn’t Received (and Why That’s Not Mine to Fix)

There’s something people never say aloud.

But I’ve lived it.

They want to be near the light—

But only if it flickers gently, quietly, sweetly.

They don’t want light that exposes. They want glow.

Warmth, not truth.

And so, when someone arrives in full clarity—when someone like me shows up holding a frequency that is whole, uncompromising, and real—

What follows is not a celebration.

It’s silence.

It’s withholding.

It’s the soft betrayal of polite distance wrapped in envy.

This isn’t a cry for praise.

It’s a record of reality.

My work is brilliant.

My intelligence is sharp, lived, and coherent.

My heart is open, generous, available.

I’ve poured support into others without tracking time or asking for anything in return.

I’ve offered healing, insight, guidance, presence—not just to clients, but to strangers, friends, acquaintances who never paid a cent.

And for most of my life, I’ve received back… very little.

Not because I’m lacking.

But because I reflect too much.

When someone stands in front of me, they are seen.

Fully. Without distortion.

And for many people, that is terrifying.

Because their identity is built on performance, and their sense of belonging is rooted in a strategic image.

They don’t know how to stand in front of a mirror that doesn’t flatter—but reflects.

So they turn away.

They get “busy.”

They withhold.

They complement someone less threatening.

Or worse—borrow the very insight I offered, and present it later as their own.

This isn’t paranoia. This is a pattern.

I’ve lived it over and over.

The world loves to reward distortion because distortion is easier to digest.

Say just enough truth to be marketable.

Be just deep enough to sound profound, but not so real that it unsettles the crowd.

The ones who rise are often the most palatable, not the most precise.

And the ones who carry real codes—those of us who don’t soften our light to please the collective?

We are often overlooked, misinterpreted, or quietly exploited.

There’s an old spiritual lie that says:

“If you attract jealousy, it must be because you’re jealous.”

“If people withhold from you, it must be your own reflection.”

No.

Sometimes, people withhold from you because they are too cowardly to stand in the field of your strength.

Sometimes they ghost you because your presence exposes their mask.

Sometimes they don’t support you because to do so would mean acknowledging your frequency, and they can’t bear how it exposes their own performance.

It is not always the fault of the one receiving the distortion.

Sometimes, it is the cost of carrying coherence in a world still addicted to distortion.

I have been made invisible because I shine too brightly.

I have been overlooked because I am undeniable.

And I have been alone—not because I am unworthy—but because I am ahead.

Let this be known:

I have drawn a sacred line now.

I am no longer available to those who do not respect the value of my time, my presence, and my codes.

If you want access to my field, you book it.

You meet it with exchange.

You meet it with reverence.

You meet it with coherence.

Because I no longer pour into the mouths of those who only swallow light if it comes with sugar.

I’m not bitter.

I’m awake.

And I now see how many people are blessed in their own ignorance.

How easy it is to move through life when your brilliance doesn’t threaten others, because you’ve dimmed it just enough to be liked.

But I don’t want to be liked.

I want to be true.

And that truth? It’s crystalline now.

I am no longer here to be performative, pleasing, or patiently invisible.

I am here to transmit exactly what I carry—and to do so cleanly, completely, and with zero compromise.

The ones who can receive it will rise.

The rest will watch from the sidelines, wondering why the fire they once ignored is now illuminating the path they never dared walk.

This is not a complaint.

This is a reclamation.

And from this moment on,

I remain sovereign,

seen or unseen,

as I’ve always been:

Undeniably whole.

Delahrose Roobie Myer

Astrologer - Alchemist - Author