In the upper echelons of influence, time is rarely your own.
When you move in circles shaped by power, legacy, and diplomacy, your calendar quickly becomes a chessboard—each invitation a subtle move, each RSVP a signal of allegiance or indifference. And yet, what no one tells you when you enter the world of high society is that saying yes to everyone often means saying no to yourself.
Yesterday, a choice presented itself—meet with a senior figure in government, or attend a private dinner hosted by a powerful CEO, an event I’d looked forward to for weeks. I chose the latter. And yes, it ruffled feathers.
But here’s the truth: In elite society, the illusion is that every moment must be sacrificed at the altar of status. That every powerful person’s availability must eclipse your own passions, your own joy. It’s a lie too many buy into—and a trap too many lose themselves in.
The highest form of power is not proximity—it’s autonomy.
Yes, connections matter. Yes, showing up is currency. But so is discernment. So is the ability to weigh strategic presence against personal peace. Because true elite living isn’t just about being invited to the table—it’s about knowing which table actually feeds your purpose.
When legacy is your north star, every decision must serve something deeper than optics. This isn’t rebellion. It’s refinement. It’s knowing that protecting your time isn’t selfish—it’s sovereign.
As women, as entrepreneurs, as wives, and as public figures, we are allowed to choose joy. We are allowed to choose elegance over obligation. Because the soft power we wield in those decisions sends its own signal—one that whispers: I am not here to be used. I am here to be remembered.
So no, I don’t regret missing the meeting. I showed up where my spirit led me. And in a world obsessed with access, I’m choosing alignment.
Because at this level, peace is the real luxury.