Villains, Shadows, and My Story: Awakening the Good Villain.

(Part II)

They told me healing would make me lighter.

They said if I just forgave, if I just let go, I’d find peace.

But what they really meant was:

“Be easy to digest.

Be predictable again.

Be silent in ways that make us comfortable.”

They never told me that healing can also make you heavier — 

with truth, 

with awareness, 

with the weight of seeing the world exactly as it is.

As you become more conscious, the harder it becomes to keep pretending.

⸻

I’ve stopped mistaking calm for healing.

I’ve stopped confusing silence with strength.

I’ve stopped calling suppression discipline.

This isn’t about balance anymore — it’s about alignment.

Because the world doesn’t reward balance — it rewards obedience.

And I’m done with that.

⸻

The First Step

The hero’s journey was never mine.

It demanded purity, restraint, self-sacrifice — the kind of goodness that exists only when the world is watching.

But the villain’s path?

That’s where truth lives.

Because the villain isn’t born from malice — they’re born from clarity.

From the moment they stop running from who they are and start walking straight into it.

That’s what this is. 

My first step towards power.

⸻

On Thought and Power

You really do become what you think.

Your reality reflects the perceptions you project.

Feed your mind trash, and your world will rot around you.

Feed it truth — even painful truth — and everything changes.

Fear becomes direction.

Anger becomes a compass.

Anxiety becomes an invitation back to the present.

Emotions aren’t enemies…

They’re messages.

They remind you of what matters, what hurts, and what still needs tending.

The difference is that now I don’t want to run from them anymore.

I listen.

I let them shape me, rather than shame me.

That’s the villain’s advantage:

They don’t fear the dark.

They study it.

They learn darkness’ language until it no longer has power over them.

⸻

On Failure and Focus

Heroes crave victory.

Villains crave completion.

A hero fights for applause — a villain fights for understanding.

And that’s why they never stop.

Because when you’ve already lost everything that made you “approvable”, defeat doesn’t scare you anymore.

Fear is just a word.

Failure is just data.

The villain rises again and again — not because they’re unbreakable, but because breaking is no longer the end.

It’s the reset.

That’s what separates them from the rest.

Villains are singular in focus.

Unapologetically obsessed.

They burn for what they believe in long after everyone else has gone home.

They don’t need permission.

They don’t wait for proof.

They build, fail, rebuild, and repeat — until the world bends.

They have that “I never lose, I learn — and… The game’s not over until I win.”

⸻

The Myth of Control

I used to think that control was the goal — that power meant predicting outcomes and managing chaos.

But I’m learning that control is an illusion.

The world runs on chaos; order is the mask we put over it to feel safe — best challenged by some of the best-written fictional villains (In my opinion).

The Joker knew that. He laughed at how easily people mistake structure for sanity.

Madara Uchiha saw it — that every dream of peace was just another mechanism of control.

And Eren Jaeger… he learned that saving the world sometimes means tearing it down first.

I used to think that was evil.

Now, more and more, it looks like honesty.

Because sometimes the system you were taught to protect is the same one that’s been slowly killing you.

And the only real rebellion is refusing to keep pretending it works.

⸻

The Mirror

When someone triggers me now, I’m learning not to react — Instead, I observe.

Because every reaction is a reflection.

Every irritation is a mirror showing me what’s still unhealed.

That’s the moment a good villain is born:

not when they lash out, 

but when they wake up.

When they realise the enemy isn’t “out there” anymore, it’s in the unexamined parts of themselves.

And that war…

the one between who you’ve been and who you could become 

— is the only one worth fighting.

⸻

The Rebellion Within

This path isn’t about vengeance.

It’s about liberation.

From old programming.

From inherited guilt.

From the exhausting need to be understood.

Because heroes are applauded for protecting what exists.

Villains are hated for creating what could be.

The difference is perspective.

The villain simply stops pretending that peace built on silence is worth keeping.

They see the machinery behind the myth — the illusion of control, the economy of obedience.

They see how comfort was always the currency of captivity.

So they break it.

Not out of rage, but out of necessity.

Not to destroy, but to reset, restructure, and rebuild.

⸻

Becoming

Therapy… 

I’m not a fan.

Often, I’ve felt that at best it’s useless platitudes that don’t actually help.

Even worse — and more often than not — it’s just “how does that make you feel?” — which, too, is useless.

And the worst, you end up paying someone to support and encourage you to keep doing the same shit that put you in a therapist’s chair in the first place.

Healing, though… 

Healing isn’t about erasing the darkness.

It’s about integrating it — learning to wield it without letting it consume you.

So I no longer call my walls boundaries.

I no longer call my avoidance peace.

I no longer call my numbness maturity.

I call it what it is: survival.

And survival is not enough anymore.

Because growth — real growth — is messy.

It’s unlearning politeness.

It’s saying “NO” without explanation.

It’s refusing to water down your truth just because others might choke on it.

That’s what becoming looks like.

And yes, it means being misunderstood.

It means being hated.

It means being called a villain by those still asleep.

But the point of awakening was never to be liked.

It was to be free…

⸻

The Awakening

The hero protects the story.

The villain rewrites it.

And I’ve spent enough years trying to save worlds that were never built to include me.

Now I’m building my own.

This is the turning point.

The unmasking.

The acceptance that power was never about control — it was about creation.

Because every world that praises peace is secretly maintained by someone’s silence.

Every utopia demands a sacrifice.

And the moment you refuse to be that sacrifice, you become the threat.

But that’s fine.

I wasn’t built to die a symbol of obedience.

⸻

Call me what you want — villain, shadow, storm.

I’m learning not to care.

Because my villain story is about someone who got tired of asking for permission to be whole.

Someone who learned that becoming yourself in a world built to suppress you is the most radical act of all.

So this is me — unedited, unmasked, unfinished.

Not healed.

Not perfect.

But awake.

And that’s enough.