The Truth Behind Submission

I don’t want your submission.

Let’s start there.

Not because I’m against loyalty — but because loyalty without desire is a counterfeit currency. It looks like devotion. It feels like respect. But underneath, it’s emptiness pretending to be love.

When I say I don’t want your submission, it’s not rebellion.

It’s recognition.

I’ve lived through the quiet hell of being chosen out of obligation — and I’ve watched others accept it as enough because they never felt worthy of anything else.

But I want more.

For me.

For you.

For anyone who’s done being applauded for being agreeable instead of being alive.

Because here’s the truth buried in the dirt:

Submission rots where desire breathes fire.

The wound no one sees is the truth no one speaks.

I used to believe appreciation was enough.

Someone thanking me.

Someone choosing me.

Someone saying, “I’m here.”

But the tone always revealed the truth.

They weren’t there because they were pulled.

They were there because they believed they should be.

That’s not love.

That’s quiet resignation.

That’s emotional tax.

Even in romantic relationships — especially there — I learned the difference between:

“I want to be with you,”

and

“I don’t want to disappoint you.”

The first creates life.

The second creates slow emotional death.

And the longer you tolerate that death, the more you shrink to fit their comfort zone instead of your calling.

I want your unmitigated lust — not because I need validation, but because it reveals truth.

Lust is raw.

Lust is alive.

Lust is unfiltered yes.

Not just sexual, but existential.

Not just attraction — but mission alignment.

Lust says:

“I choose this. I feel this. I burn for this.”

And burn is what moves the world.

Neuroscience proves that desire (not duty) is what drives behavior. Dopamine is released not when we receive something… but when we want it. Source: https://www.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/pmc/articles/PMC4826760/

So if someone is acting without want — they’re not alive.

They’re a ghost in routine.

I don’t want that energy anywhere near my world.

And neither should you.

Purity is an illusion — but rule-breaking is where identity wakes up.

Purity is just obedience wearing white clothing.

It’s the performance of goodness, not the embodiment of truth.

It’s acting “right” to appease the invisible judges in the sky.

I’d rather someone sin with authenticity than serve with emptiness.

Break rules for me.

Not as rebellion — but as recognition.

If we’re going to build together — build something that threatens ideologies, not just fills calendars.

If you want to love me, don’t love the version that pleases the crowd.

Love the version that terrifies the world because it’s finally real.

That is the only love worth having.

That is the only loyalty worth keeping.

The fear of disappointing others is the greatest destroyer of self.

Most people don’t fear failure.

They fear judgment.

They fear losing approval far more than losing themselves.

So they shrink.

So they censor.

So they love safely.

But safe love can’t resurrect a soul.

And silent loyalty can’t build an empire.

The only relationships — romantic, professional, spiritual — that expand us are built on want, not should.

That’s not selfish.

That’s sacred.

Carl Jung once wrote:

“The most terrifying thing is to accept oneself completely.”

Source: https://www.goodreads.com/quotes/21071

Because once you accept yourself, you stop accepting less than truth from anyone else.

I don’t need more people who nod. I need people who ignite.

I want the ones who feel their pulse when I speak.

I want the ones who don’t just agree, but respond.

Who don’t just say yes — but rise.

If you’re coming into my world out of guilt, duty, pressure, or politeness — don’t.

If you’re coming in because you can’t stay out — welcome.

I don’t need your silent applause.

I want your volcanic yes.

That’s why I built the Real Success Ecosystem.

Not for the compliant — but for the alive.

Not for the obedient — but for the sovereign.

Because your life was never meant to be a well-behaved apology.

It was meant to be a wildly chosen declaration.

And everything — love, business, creation, devotion — either nourishes or kills your ability to choose.

So here’s my truth one last time:

I don’t want your obedience.

I want your want.

I want the fire that proves you’re not here because you should be —

but because something in you would rather burn than back away.

Thank you for reading.

— Randolphe