I was born to disrupt society. I can’t walk into a room and not disrupt it. That’s just how it is.
For a long time, I thought that meant something was wrong with me. Being a disruptor is uncomfortable. You say something honest or free, and everyone around you goes quiet, or gets weird, or gets mad. But I’ve come to understand that being a disruptor means being shamed in the 3D and right in the 5D.
The silent table
Years ago, I sat down with five of my closest friends, all musicians and artists who wanted to become famous. I said: you guys, I have a great idea. We could all become famous. I had it all planned out. I’d really thought about how each person’s unique energy would fit into it. I didn’t feel like I was bulldozing anyone. I thought it was a fun collaboration, a creative game we could play together.
I talked for about five minutes. When I finished, everyone was silent. They looked down at the table. They looked around the room. I thought maybe they hadn’t heard me, so I repeated my conclusion. More silence.
What the hell was that?
Years later, I asked my friend Kuan Yin, who had been at that table, what happened. Why did a good idea make everyone go quiet? And as we talked, she told me she hadn’t felt ready or able to step into the version of herself I was seeing in her. Every person at that table had their own trigger. Each of them felt something they couldn’t say out loud, some version of “that doesn’t fit me” or “I’m not ready,” and it brought up shame.
The story I told myself
But in that moment, the shame landed on me. I thought I was including people and having fun. Instead, everyone was acting like I was a freak.
So I made up a story: being a disruptor means I’m bad. Being a disruptor means I’m an outcast. Society doesn’t want what I am. And every time I accidentally, inevitably disrupted something after that, the story got reinforced. Demonize that part of yourself. You don’t belong. You don’t need anybody. You’re alone, and it’s fine.
That kind of wound keeps coming up until you heal it, even over tiny things. Recently I asked some people to model for Dolphin Technology, and one person said no. It hurt my feelings so badly that I had to stop and ask why. The answer: I felt like I’d disrupted them, they’d rejected me, and so I was an outcast again. Same old story.
The seed you never see grow
Here’s what I understand now. When you’re free, people meet their own shame. You scramble their brain a little. They see you doing the thing they’ve locked away inside themselves, and it’s uncomfortable, so they project that discomfort back onto you.
But that moment plants a seed. They go home, and if they give it enough attention and sunshine inside their own psyche, it grows and transforms them. You just never get to see it, because all you saw was the silence at the table.
That’s why disruptors are essential. The deviants, the alternative thinkers, the trendsetters, the weirdos with the alternative humor: they all pull culture forward. In the 3D, it feels like rejection. In the 5D, where everything is connected and all is one, you can see that the disruptor is a vital part of the tribe. Jesus was a disruptor.
Choose the story that empowers you
I can’t control other people’s projection of shame. All I can control is whether I take it on. When people go quiet or push back, I can tell myself one of two stories. In one, I’m bad and I don’t belong. In the other, they’re feeling their own shame because I’m free, and that shame isn’t mine to carry.
The spirit of Uni made me this way. If it’s aligned for you, the spirit of Uni wants you to disrupt society too. Our society is psychopathic, and it needs people who are willing to stand up, be free of shame, and welcome others into that freedom.
So be a disruptor. You can be one and still belong, because society needs you exactly as you are.
Thank you for raising the vibration of earth. If this speaks to you, join UNICULT.
