#voidstatemanifesting

Let me not sugarcoat this.

I was stuck. Not "going through a phase" stuck. Actually, genuinely, embarrassingly stuck. Broke in ways that went beyond money. Lost in ways that went beyond direction. The kind of stuck where you're not even sad anymore — you're just numb. Going through motions. Shrinking every single day and calling it humility.

I was begging. Not out loud. But in every thought, every vision board, every "please universe" whispered into the dark — I was begging. And begging is just fear with good intentions.

Then one night something in me just snapped.

Not a motivational snap. A disgusted one.

I lay down at midnight. No ritual. No crystals. No playlist. Just me, the dark, and a decision I was done un-making.

I said to myself — out loud, like I meant it — I am in the void state.

I repeated it until the room disappeared. Until my thoughts quieted into nothing. Until there was no mirror, no doubt, no history — just pure, clean, infinite possibility with my name on it.

And then I said: I have everything from my list.

Not "I want." Not "I hope." Not "please."

I have.

Here's what was on that list. Here's what's now my life:

A luxury apartment where the views remind me every morning that I made it out.

A bank account that would make my broke past unrecognizable to itself.

A career where I'm not just successful — I'm respected. The kind of respected that has a little fear in it.

A partner who shows up. Fully. Consistently. No games, no half-presence, no emotional unavailability dressed up as "depth."

A car that's black, sleek, and completely unapologetic — just like me.

Friendships that pour in instead of drain out.

And a peace — cold, steady, unshakeable — that no circumstance has been able to touch since.

The void state wasn't magic. It was clarity.

It's what happens when you strip away every excuse, every old story, every version of yourself that was comfortable being less — and you meet what's left. Which is everything. Which was always everything.

The universe wasn't withholding from me.

I was withholding from myself.

You don't need more time. You don't need better circumstances. You don't need to feel ready, feel worthy, feel healed enough.

You need one midnight. One decision. One moment where you stop negotiating with your own potential.

Stop asking. Start having. The queen doesn't petition for her throne. She sits down.