HOW TO BE A QUEEN

Most people will never live the life they secretly dream about. Not because they lack intelligence. Not because they lack talent. Not because they were born into the wrong family or the wrong country. Most people remain average because somewhere along the way, they stopped asking one question and started asking another. Instead of asking, “Who am I capable of becoming?” they begin asking, “Who do I need to be so that people will accept me?” That single shift quietly changes the direction of an entire life. Psychologist Roy Baumeister, together with Mark Leary, proposed one of the most influential theories in social psychology: human beings possess a fundamental need to belong. They argued that the desire to be accepted by others is not a luxury—it is a basic psychological need that evolved because belonging once increased our chances of survival. Thousands of years ago, rejection from the tribe often meant death. Today, rejection rarely threatens our survival. Yet our brains still respond as though it does. That is why criticism hurts. Why exclusion feels unbearable. Why we hesitate before speaking our minds. Why we often choose comfort over authenticity. Our biology still whispers, “Stay with the tribe.” But growth often whispers something entirely different. “Become yourself.” Those two voices spend a lifetime competing. The tragedy is that many women never realize which one they have been listening to. I know this struggle well. I grew up in Cairo, Egypt, in a family where excellence was simply normal. My parents were doctors. My sisters grew into remarkable women, becoming an architect and a doctor. Achievement surrounded me. Like many children, I admired them deeply. Without realizing it, admiration slowly transformed into expectation. In Egyptian culture, success is often clearly defined. Become a doctor. Become an engineer. Choose a respected profession. Those careers deserve admiration. They save lives. They build societies. But somewhere along the way, I confused their path with my purpose. For years, I convinced myself that medicine was my dream. It wasn’t. It was the dream I believed would make me worthy. Psychologist Carl Rogers, one of the founders of humanistic psychology, described this as the difference between the real self and the ideal self. He believed psychological distress grows when we begin living according to conditions imposed by others instead of our authentic values. Looking back, I was slowly becoming someone I admired rather than someone I truly was. That difference is everything. Eventually, life forced me to confront that truth. I earned the grades. Applied to medical school. Prepared to leave for the United Kingdom. Everything looked perfect from the outside. Until my body refused to cooperate. Standing inside a fitting room, shopping for clothes before leaving, I experienced my first panic attack. At the time, I thought something was physically wrong. Years later, I understood what had happened. Sometimes the body speaks before the mind is willing to listen. Psychiatrist Dr. Bessel van der Kolk, author of The Body Keeps the Score, explains that our bodies often carry emotional truths that our conscious minds suppress. Chronic stress, emotional conflict, and unresolved internal struggles do not simply disappear because we ignore them. They often emerge physically. My panic attack wasn’t weakness. It was information. It was my body saying, “This isn’t your life.” Walking away from medicine became one of the most frightening decisions I have ever made. Not because I doubted my intelligence. Because I feared disappointing everyone around me. Looking back now, I wasn’t choosing journalism over medicine. I was choosing authenticity over approval. That decision taught me something I have carried ever since. Average is rarely created by a lack of ability. Average is created through repeated acts of self-betrayal. Every time we silence an opinion because someone might disagree. Every time we lower our standards because they make other people uncomfortable. Every time we stay in relationships, careers, or environments that no longer reflect who we are becoming. Every time we ignore the quiet voice inside us because external validation feels safer. Psychologist Leon Festinger, creator of Cognitive Dissonance Theory, explained that human beings experience psychological discomfort whenever their actions conflict with their beliefs. Most people resolve that discomfort by changing their beliefs. Very few resolve it by changing their lives. Outlier women do the opposite. Instead of convincing themselves that settling is enough, they accept the discomfort of growth. Because they understand something that most people never do. The temporary pain of change is almost always smaller than the lifelong pain of regret. Being different is expensive. People may misunderstand your ambition. Call your confidence arrogance. Mistake your boundaries for selfishness. Question your choices because they don’t resemble their own. Psychologist Brené Brown, whose research focuses on vulnerability, courage, and belonging, often reminds us that fitting in is not the same as belonging. Fitting in requires changing yourself. Belonging requires becoming yourself. Those two paths lead to completely different lives. Every remarkable woman eventually reaches the same crossroads. Stay relatable. Or become unforgettable. Most choose relatable. Not because they lack potential. Because becoming unforgettable requires responsibility. It requires discipline when motivation disappears. Emotional control when life humiliates you. Resilience when plans collapse. Faith when progress feels invisible. And perhaps hardest of all— It requires becoming comfortable with being misunderstood. One of the greatest myths about extraordinary women is that they are fearless. They are not. I have met brilliant women. Journalists. Entrepreneurs. Doctors. Artists. Beauty queens. None of them were fearless. They simply reached a point where shrinking themselves became more painful than being judged. That is courage.