From Doormat to Diamond
- rizpotarn
- Dec 31
- 3 min read
From Doormat to Diamond: My Hilarious Journey to True Self-Love and the Red Velvet Rope Revolution.

Hey there, fabulous souls! Ever feel like life's been using you as a piñata, whacking away until all your candy (aka self-respect) spills out? Well, buckle up, because I'm about to spill the tea on my wild ride from childhood chaos to self-care queen. If you've ever wondered how a girl who started as a preschool prodigy ended up dodging emotional landmines like a pro, this is your viral wake-up call: Self-love isn't a spa day—it's a fortress with a bouncer! Share this if you've got your own "nope" list brewing. Let's dive in!
Picture this: Little me, toddling through preschool like a pint-sized rockstar. Life was a glitter explosion—finger paints with mud, nap times that felt like vacations, and zero judgment for eating freshly picked guavas (hey, it was organic back then). I was pure joy on legs, incarnated into this world with a mission to sparkle brighter than a disco ball. But oh honey, enter the school system: Rules! Obedience! Conformity! Suddenly, I'm the golden child, acing everything from hopscotch to honors classes. Magna Cum Laude? Check. Multiple postgraduate degrees? Double check. I was basically a walking trophy case. But spoiler alert: Excelling in "blind obedience bootcamp" doesn't prepare you for the real world's sucker punches.
Fast forward to adulting, and cue the comedy of errors. My arrogant brothers and sisters? Think of them as a bad reality TV show where obedience is the plot and betrayal is the twist. My own brothers and sisters turned sibling rivalry into an Olympic sport—stealing credit, gaslighting galore, all while society cheered, "Just conform, sweetie!" Some classmates? Jealous backstabbers who borrowed my notes and "forgot" to return my sanity. Teachers? Some were gems, but others treated questions like crimes. Some friends? Ha! More like frenemies who vanished faster than my self-esteem at class reunion. Colleagues and bosses? Picture corporate Hunger Games where promotions go to the loudest bootlicker, and I was left holding the emotional baggage.
Through it all, I clung to my priorities like a koala to a eucalyptus tree: God first (because divine GPS never fails), family second (even if they were the potholes on my road), and community third (giving back felt good, until it drained me dry). But decades of this nonsense? It robbed me blind—self-respect? Poof! Self-care? What's that, a mythical creature? I was so busy people-pleasing, I forgot I was the main character in my own story. Then, bam! My soul hit the "remember" button. Slowly but surely, through the fog of fake smiles and forced forgiveness, I recalled why I incarnated here: Not to be a doormat, but a dynamo! Love—real, universal, no-BS love—became my North Star. It's the language that whispers, "Girl, you're worth more than this circus."
And just like that, I birthed my masterpiece: The Red Velvet Rope Policy! Imagine your life as an exclusive VIP club. No entry without the authentic love vibe—high-frequency hearts only! Abusers? Bouncers at the door. Toxic family? "Sorry, not on the list." Shady friends and soul-sucking jobs? "Next!" I cut ties like a pro hairstylist, snipping split ends. It took decades to realize self-love means saying "hell no" without the guilt trip, but now? I'm unbreakable. Sure, the journey had more plot twists than a soap opera—betrayals that left me laughing through tears, like "Really, universe? Another one?"
But those lessons? They polished me like a diamond under pressure. I'm grateful AF because without the grit, there'd be no sparkle. Now, I stride through life with authentic self-love, self-respect, and self-care routines that rival those of a celebrity: meditation marathons, boundary-setting like a boss, and zero tolerance for low-vibe drama. Who knew ditching the dead weight would feel this freeing?
Viral hook alert: If your life feels like a bad group chat, it's time to mute the negativity and amplify your glow-up! Tag a friend who needs this reminder that self-love isn't selfish—it's survival. Ready to level up? Your CTA: Grab a pen (or your notes app) and draft your own Red Velvet Rope Policy today. Who gets VIP access? Who gets the boot? Share your "aha" moments in the comments below—let's build a community of unapologetic self-lovers. And if this resonated, hit that share button like it's the last donut in the box. You've got this, warrior! Let's make self-care the new black from here now to the year 2026 and beyond!






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