Your Frequency of Being Seen, Leading, and Taking Up Space You wrote something brilliant last Thursday. It was precise, it was true, it landed in your body with the specific weight of something that needed to exist in the world. And then you left it in drafts like an emotional hostage negotiation where you are both the hostage AND the negotiator AND the person outside with the megaphone saying “just come out slowly with your hands up and nobody gets hurt” except the only person who could get hurt is you and the only weapon is a Substack post. Your throat closed. Your solar plexus did that thing. You opened…