I’ve been chewing on the word sovereignty like biting into a stalk of celery—fibrous, gritty, resistant. It’s the kind of word that lingers, stuck between your teeth. But what does it really mean to be free? What is agency, self-governance? What is emotional liberation? For too long, sovereignty has been tangled in political discourse. It’s time to reclaim it for ourselves.

The hardest prison to escape is the one we build to feel safe. I know this because I designed mine—constructed the walls, employed the guards. But if you are beholden to someone or something, are you ever truly free? What holds you captive? For my sister, it was alcohol. For me, it was something more insidious: the craving for approval, the need to be needed. I hid pieces of myself to be accepted, shrinking into a mold for validation.

Recently, as I dismantle the prison I built, I’ve been excavating the remnants of someone desperate for others’ acceptance. Because sovereignty—true sovereignty—requires an unflinching inventory of what keeps us shackled. And that demands something even harder: compassion.

Compassion isn’t just empathy. It’s not simply feeling for someone but with them. And like breath, it’s an internal force that sustains life. Yet the deepest, most radical act of compassion is extending it toward ourselves—practicing patience, gentleness, and grace in the face of our own struggles. It’s easy to offer compassion outward, but turning it inward? That’s the real work. And just like breathing, it’s essential.

Personal sovereignty is owning your inner world—your thoughts, emotions, choices—without seeking validation or control. And in that space of self-possession, genuine compassion flourishes. You can offer kindness without sacrificing boundaries. You can hold space for others’ pain without absorbing it as your own.

And in a way, compassion and sovereignty form an infinity loop—each reinforcing the other. Sovereignty softens through compassion, removing the need for rigid control or defensiveness. And compassion, when paired with sovereignty, allows us to witness others' humanity without giving away our own power. Together, they create a delicate balance: Compassionate enough to care. Sovereign enough to remain whole.