Of course I write to be read. But more than even that—I write to set my soul free. To breathe fire into new spaces. To take up space in a world that told me I should be grateful for scraps. To carve out room for rage and reverence, strategy and softness, grief and glory—all of it.
I write to proclaim to a world that wants me quiet, compliant, and convenient that I am more than they can f@*&ing handle—I am not here to be palatable. I’m here to be powerful.
I don’t write to perform perfection. I write to pierce illusion. To unearth what’s real and sacred and sovereign.
This space—this newsletter, this container, this corner of the internet—isn’t about polished takes or pretty paragraphs.
It’s about liberation.
Mine.
Yours.
Ours.
I write because liberation needs language. Because desire needs a doorway. Because too many brilliant, tender, powerful humans have been told that their dreams are “too much” and their rage is “unbecoming.”
Not here. Not in Shaneh’s world.
Here, we write it raw.
We say the sacred part out loud. We let our words be spells, salves, and sacred protests. We dare—every single day—to tell the truth with our whole chest. We write the thing that shakes our voice. We name the thing we were taught to keep quiet.
We tell the story before it’s perfectly packaged, because truth is not a performance—it’s a pulse.
And we profit without apology.
Because our voices hold value. Because our words build worlds. Because our sovereignty is not negotiable.
This isn’t content. It’s combustion.
It’s the spark that lights the signal fire for every rebel soul trying to remember who they are.
Writing Prompts (for your journal, your notes app, your truth altar):
What’s the truth I’ve been too afraid to say out loud?
Where have I been making myself palatable instead of powerful?
What story or dream wants to burn through me today?
What would I write if I didn’t need it to be liked?
If liberation had a language, what would my version sound like?
How might I profit from my truth—not just in money, but in meaning?
Now it’s your turn—
What truth are you ready to set free?
What story have you been holding back because someone said it wasn’t “safe” to tell?
Drop a comment. Hit reply.
Let this be your firestarter.
Let this be the day you write it anyway.
Song of the day: Stand Up (from the movie Harriet) by Cynthia Erivo