✦ The Modern Heiress

Everyone has an ego. But some wear theirs like a crown, others, like a cage they built themselves.

I’ve been watching people, not in the creepy way, but in the quiet, calculating way you do when you’ve learned that words aren’t always the truth, but reactions are. And here’s what I’ve figured out: everyone has an ego, but the real difference lies in the size of it, and how it shows up in social interactions.

Let’s spill: everyone has an ego. Even the saints. Ego isn’t evil, it’s instinct. It’s what keeps you from begging for crumbs or settling for silence when you deserve a standing ovation. But the real plot twist isn’t whether someone has ego. It’s how big it is… and what they do when it gets bruised.

The ones with the smallest ego? Don’t underestimate them. They’re not weak, they’re just secure. They can get triggered, sure. But they process, not punish. Their pride never roars louder than their self-awareness. They apologize without losing dignity, and they make amends without waiting for applause. These are the people who choose maturity over malice, and trust me, that takes more strength than any silent treatment or cryptic status ever did.

Now for the other side of the chessboard: people with large, swollen egos. Whew. One disagreement and suddenly you’ve committed high treason. These are the folks who confuse “being hurt” with “being entitled to judge everyone.” Instead of unpacking their emotions, they throw shade, ghost people, or worse, hide behind fake spiritualism and wordy justifications. They don’t heal. They hover. And every interaction becomes a performance where they need to win, even if it costs connection.

How Ego Shapes the Way We Leverage Strength

Here’s where it gets juicy, our ego doesn’t just influence how we feel, it shapes how we use our power. People with small, grounded egos? They lead with quiet confidence. They don’t announce their strength, they let it radiate. They build people up, knowing someone else’s glow doesn’t dim theirs. They mentor, not manipulate. Their strength becomes a mirror for others to feel safe, not small.

Meanwhile, those with inflated egos? They weaponize their power. Strength becomes a spotlight and they want to be the only one standing in it. They see other people’s brilliance as a threat, not an invitation. They leverage their voice to dominate, not elevate. They play gatekeeper with wisdom, and instead of guiding, they guard. Because to them, power only feels good when someone else is beneath it.

Real strength isn’t about having the loudest voice in the room, it’s about knowing when to stay silent, when to listen, when to let someone else win the round because the bigger picture matters. Small ego, big presence. That’s the true upper hand.

So ask yourself: are you leading with ego or with energy? Are you using your strength to lift or to prove?

Because here’s the truth no one told you in your etiquette class: the smaller your ego, the more room you have to grow and to take others with you.

And if you’re out here soft, powerful, and still kind? That’s not weakness, babe. That’s legacy.

you called it ego, I call it standards

They looked at me like I was soft. Polite. Maybe even a little too polished. The kind of girl who’d apologize before speaking, the kind who decorates the corner of the room but never dares to own it. But here’s the gag, I was raised by high achievers. Parents with standards so high, failure wasn’t feared: it was dissected, studied, turned into strategy. I wasn’t taught to be cheap with my words, my work, or my worth. So no, I’m not snobby. I just don’t bend easily for people who think bare minimum energy deserves a front-row seat.

And let’s be real: some of the loudest underestimators wore expensive watches and fragile egos. Especially the men, the ones who sized me up, smiled too wide, and spoke like I should be flattered just to be noticed. They never saw the storm until the results hit their spreadsheets. And when I grew, succeeded, and outpaced them, suddenly I was “difficult,” “intense,” or “too ambitious.” No, darling. I just stopped pretending I needed to be saved.

Yes, I have ego. But it’s not the type that wants to belittle others. It’s the kind that wants to honor where I came from. To never water myself down just to fit into someone else’s idea of approachable. To never let a man, or anyone, mistake my gentleness for weakness. If that offends someone’s sense of entitlement, let it.

Because I’m not here to be underestimated. I’m here to be undeniable.

–

Your emotionally fluent femme fatale,
Madam Alias Solis
Writer, The Modern Heiress