✦ The Modern Heiress

Unmasking the subtle abuse hidden behind comments, concerns, and unsolicited opinions.

I’ve reached a point in my life where I no longer flinch when people critique me. I see it for what it really is: projection. There was a time when I stayed quiet while someone publicly commented on my weight, telling me I was too skinny and should gain at least five kilograms. He said it proudly in a crowd, calling himself a “fitness enthusiast” like it gave him authority over my body. I’ve had so-called friends compare my brand-new local car to their used imported ones, and even critique my home, not from a place of genuine conversation, but subtle competition. I’ve heard in-laws gossip about my family, speculating about my parents’ marriage and our business behind my back, instead of asking me directly.

What I’ve learned is this, when you let people humiliate you once, they grow bolder. They will keep digging, deeper and deeper, unless you draw a hard line. And I’ve learned how to draw that line, in a hard way.

the case studies I never asked for

Over time, I realized these remarks were never truly about me. The man who criticized my body wanted to feel superior. The friend comparing her belongings to mine was drowning in her own insecurity. The relatives who whispered about my family were projecting their need to feel important. These weren’t insights, they were confessions. Their words revealed what they couldn’t confront within themselves.

Once I saw that clearly, their opinions lost power. I no longer felt the urge to explain myself, defend my life, or ease their discomfort. Their critiques faded into background noise, because I finally understood: their voices were never qualified to narrate my story.

It became obvious to me that critique is often a power play. These people weren’t trying to connect, they were trying to control. They wanted to remind me that I was being watched, measured, and judged. And the most manipulative part? They disguised it as “concern” or “just being honest.” When I pushed back, I was told I was too sensitive. When I stayed quiet, they assumed I agreed.

But I’ve learned that people like this don’t deserve space in my life, not even a seat in the gallery. Their obsession with shrinking others reveals their own instability. And I refuse to carry that weight for them.

the disappearing act they deserved

So I did what had to be done. I distanced myself, fully and unapologetically. I stopped greeting them. I stopped smiling. I withdrew every ounce of warmth. In my mind, they were erased. I began to envision them as absent, invisible, irrelevant. I denied them the currency of acknowledgment.

And here’s the irony: the very people trying to act superior were shockingly ordinary. Poor hygiene. Bad teeth. Skin issues. Unkempt appearances. They could barely manage themselves, let alone judge someone else. Most of them came from modest, middle-class lives, decent people perhaps, doing the best they could within their own limits, but not exactly authorities on refinement, success, or self-mastery. 

Beyond appearances, many of them carried an attitude that was equally unrefined. Some were consistently rude, speaking with a sharp tongue and little self-awareness. Others were habitually late, showing a lack of respect for other people’s time. A few indulged in constant gossip, using other people’s lives as currency to elevate their own status. There were even those who tried to subtly undermine others, cloaking jealousy as casual conversation.

Their experiences were often narrow, shaped by conventional thinking, unchallenged insecurities, and a lack of self-awareness. Yet somehow, they felt entitled to critique choices, lifestyles, and appearances far outside their depth. It wasn’t wisdom they were offering, it was misplaced audacity, wrapped in borrowed confidence. So why would I trust their opinion of me? I couldn’t. I didn’t. I lost respect and saw them for what they were: small.

And then, I blocked them.

Emotionally.
Digitally.
Energetically.

Director’s note, if you’re staging this in your own life:

✦ Black out the greeting: no wave, no nod, no smile.
✦ Let silence take center stage: your quiet is the loudest boundary.
✦ Close every backstage door: block, delete, detach.

Curtain down. Exit stage left.

What people fail to realized is that access to me comes with terms and conditions, non-negotiable, written in self-respect, and enforced without appeal.

no more roles to play, they are not in my script

The truth is, I don’t owe anyone access. I don’t owe responses to people who offer opinions I never asked for. I don’t owe grace to those who’ve never shown me understanding. What I owe is loyalty to myself. That means choosing peace over politeness. Blocking isn’t immature. Silence isn’t weakness. These are forms of spiritual protection.

When someone critiques me now, I don’t internalize it, I decode it. I ask: What are they trying to prove? What are they trying to hide? Every jab, every backhanded comment, every “concern” is just a masked confession of their own wounds. Their judgment reveals far more about them than it ever will about me.

As always, like in all my past writings, I view these people as case studies, walking examples of projection, insecurity, and the cycles I refuse to inherit. They serve as living proof of everything I’ve grown out of. And I no longer play the part they cast for me.

There are no more roles left. Not in my script.

to the women who refuses to shrink

To every girl reading this: do not shrink yourself to fit in, to soothe others, or to avoid being misunderstood. Your softness is not weakness. Your femininity is not a flaw. Stand tall in your womanhood and protect your identity fiercely. You were not born to be small. You were born to be whole.

Throughout my journey, I’ve never forgotten those who truly stood by me, my father and my husband. They are irreplaceable anchors in my life. They never asked me to tone it down, be quieter, or become less. And above all, I believe in God. In every season of loss, betrayal, and rebirth, His presence has been my compass.

And while you rise, remember this too: you don’t need to overreact or retaliate. Just let them go. Let them exist, but far away from you. Some people remain child-like, emotionally stunted, incapable of reflection. Don’t waste your power trying to fix what refuses to grow.

Release them. Reclaim yourself.

–

Your favorite what-if,
Madam Alias Solis
Writer, The Modern Heiress