"There's just something about you."
You've heard it before. At the party. After the meeting. From the stranger who couldn't stop glancing your way.
And what did you do?
You laughed it off. Changed the subject. Said something like "Oh, I don't know about that" while looking at your shoes.
You knew exactly what they meant. You felt it when you walked in. You've felt it your whole life — that thing that makes people pay attention, lean closer, remember you longer than they should.
But somewhere along the way, you learned that owning it was dangerous. That acknowledging your own magnetism made you arrogant. Conceited. "Too much."
So you perform confusion instead. You act like your own power is news to you.
The truth: Playing dumb about your effect on people doesn't make you humble. It makes you a liar. A well-trained one, but still.
What if the next time someone said "there's something about you," you just... agreed?
Not with arrogance. With honesty.
"Thank you, I’ve heard that before. I really appreciate the compliment.”
She wasn't looking to be noticed yet was impossible to ignore. Not because she tried. Because she stopped pretending she didn't know.
You know exactly what "that thing" is.
Permission to stop acting surprised by your own power.
Intoxicating — your accomplice in owning what was always yours.