🎙️ EPISODE 027: The Death of the Good Girl Is a Spiritual Awakening
Where the good girl was born
The good girl wasn’t born from your essence - she was manufactured. Engineered in the exact moment your nervous system realized something terrifying: that love was conditional.
Think back. Maybe it was when your “no” got you punished. Maybe it was when your questions were met with rolled eyes, slammed doors, or icy silence. Maybe it was when your joy - your too-loud laugh, your too-bright spirit - was labeled “too much.”
And in that moment, your body made a deal with survival. It whispered: If I stay quiet, I’ll stay safe. If I smile, I’ll be accepted. If I’m agreeable, I’ll belong.
So you adapted. You became attentive, careful, digestible. You learned how to soften your voice, edit your truth, fold yourself into whatever shape kept the peace.
Understand this clearly: that wasn’t weakness. That was brilliance. Your nervous system did exactly what it was designed to do - it protected you. It built armor. Armor called the “good girl.”
And for years, that armor worked. It won you approval. It kept you connected, even if that connection was fragile. It made you predictable, pleasing, safe to have around.
But here’s the fracture: armor that protects in childhood becomes a prison in adulthood. What once kept you alive is now the very thing suffocating you.
Because the good girl was never identity - she was strategy. A trauma-coded performance that fused so tightly to your skin, you forgot she wasn’t you.
And here’s where most women get stuck: they confuse gratitude for survival with loyalty to the mask. They think, This persona kept me safe, so I owe her my allegiance. But you don’t. You can thank her for her service - hold that space, and then let it go. She belongs to your past, not your present and definitely not your future.
Because today, as a woman with vision, ambition, influence - you don’t need the good girl. You need the one underneath. The one who never disappeared, she just got buried under layers of performance.
And that’s the truth: you’re not learning to become powerful, you’re remembering you always were. The mask only made you forget.
How this persona shows up in business + visibility
You didn’t leave the good girl behind when you grew up. You just dressed her in designer clothes and handed her a laptop. And she’s still running the show.
In business, she looks like this: she over-explains on sales calls, desperate to justify her worth. She apologizes for taking up space in conversations, softening her tone so she doesn’t come across as “pushy.” She says “I just wanted to…” in her emails, as if she has to shrink her authority into a polite request for permission.
In visibility, she looks like this: she posts the polished, perfectly curated version of herself, but edits out the edges that actually carry weight. She dilutes her message so she doesn’t risk offending anyone, and in doing so, she disappears into the noise. She spends hours tweaking fonts, captions, and strategies, but won’t say the one raw, unedited truth that would actually pierce the market.
You can feel it when she’s in control - because your audience can’t feel you. Clients don’t lean in. Followers don’t convert. Partners hesitate. Not because you aren’t good enough, but because energetically, you’re giving off please like me instead of this is who I am.
The good girl persona in business is lethal, because it tricks you into thinking you’re being professional, when what you’re actually being is invisible. It convinces you that niceness is credibility, when in reality, niceness without edge is forgettable.
And here’s the kicker: the good girl will even sabotage your success by showing up after you win. She’ll whisper, Don’t be too visible. Don’t celebrate too loudly. Don’t take up too much spotlight. And so even in your victories, you shrink.
Every nod, every smile, every soft edge - it’s not leadership, it’s performance. And performance is the opposite of presence.
But here’s the truth most women miss: the very edges you’ve been sanding down - the fire in your tone, the unfiltered opinion, the standard you refuse to lower - those aren’t liabilities. They’re the parts of you people are dying to feel. They’re the signal in a world addicted to noise.
The moment you stop performing palatable and start embodying powerful, everything shifts. The audience leans in. The clients trust you. The room pays attention - not because you begged for it, but because your presence demanded it.
I’ve got a great freebie for you here: It’s a somatic exercise that will make you feel the energetic split between performing for approval and standing in embodied presence. Head over to https://rewiredtorisepodcast.com/episode027
The energetic consequences of being palatable
Every time you choose palatable over powerful, your energy collapses.
You feel it, you don’t need me to tell you. It’s in the tightening of your throat when you swallow the truth. It’s in the exhaustion that hits you after a sales call where you over-explained yourself into depletion. It’s in the frustration you feel when you post something that sounds polished but lands flat because it doesn’t carry you.
Energetically, being palatable is the fastest way to broadcast scarcity. The universe doesn’t respond to words - it responds to frequency. And the frequency of please accept me is desperation. It repels. It drains. It keeps the very things you want - clients, opportunities, visibility - circling around you but never landing.
Think about it: the women you admire, the leaders who move markets, the voices that stop you in your tracks - are they palatable? Or are they potent?
This is why the good girl costs you more than you realize. When you choose digestible, you leak your power. You split your energy. You train people not to trust you, because your words say one thing but your energy says another.
And the consequences show up everywhere:
- Clients ghost, not because they can’t afford you, but because they can’t feel you.
- Your team hesitates, not because you lack clarity, but because your energy reads as uncertain.
- Opportunities pass you by, not because you’re unqualified, but because your presence doesn’t command the room - it waits for permission to enter it.
Here’s the truth: you can’t be both digestible and undeniable. You have to choose.
And when you keep choosing palatable, you’re not just delaying your business growth - you’re betraying your spirit. Because your soul didn’t come here to be liked. It came here to lead.
Letting her die without losing your integrity
Here’s the fear I hear from women at this exact edge: If I stop being the good girl, won’t I lose my integrity? Won’t I become hard, arrogant, even unlikable?
That fear is the mask speaking. Because the good girl has convinced you that kindness equals compliance, that respect equals shrinking, that integrity equals never upsetting anyone. But that isn’t integrity - that’s submission dressed up as virtue.
Integrity isn’t in the nodding and smiling. Integrity is in the truth. Integrity is the courage to say no without an essay attached. It’s refusing to abandon yourself for the comfort of someone else’s ego. It’s honoring your word even when it costs you approval.
Letting her die doesn’t mean you lose your softness. It means you lose your submission. It doesn’t mean you abandon compassion. It means you abandon compliance.
And here’s the paradox: the moment you stop performing the good girl, you actually become more trustworthy, not less. People can finally feel you. They know where you stand. They stop guessing, second-guessing, testing your boundaries - because your presence says clearly: I am here. I am whole. I am non-negotiable.
Yes, some people will fall away when you drop the mask. They’ll accuse you of being selfish, too much, difficult. And in that moment, you’ll realize something: they were never in relationship with you - they were in relationship with your performance.
Letting the good girl die is not the death of your integrity - it’s the rebirth of it. For the first time, your inside matches your outside. For the first time, your values drive your choices, not your fear. For the first time, you stop betraying yourself in the name of being “nice.”
And that, right there, is leadership. Not the leadership of a performer who’s liked, but of a woman who’s respected, trusted, and followed because her presence carries weight.
So when the good girl dies, don’t grieve her. Thank her. She got you here. But she can’t take you further. The next level of your life, your business, your leadership - requires the woman underneath.
Rebirth through frequency, not force
Rebirth isn’t about forcing yourself into some louder, brasher version of you. That’s still performance - just in a different costume.
Rebirth is about remembering the frequency you carried before the mask. The energy you had before you learned to dim yourself. The presence you were born with - the one that didn’t need approval, because it simply existed as truth.
When you let the good girl die, you don’t become aggressive. You become undeniable. Not because you’re pushing, but because your energy is clean. Your words, your tone, your choices - they’re aligned, not performed. And alignment is magnetic.
This is the shift: force is heavy. It burns you out. It makes you chase, prove, and perform. Frequency is light. It draws everything to you. Clients lean in, opportunities land, rooms turn when you walk in, not because you’re louder, but because your presence carries weight.
And here’s what happens when you embody this:
- You stop oversharing and start speaking with precision.
- You stop chasing clients and start attracting partnerships.
- You stop hiding in busyness and start leading with clarity.
The world doesn’t need another good girl. The world doesn’t need another woman begging for a seat at the table. The world needs the woman who knows she is the table.
This is your initiation. The death of the good girl is not the end of you - it’s the beginning. The beginning of a woman who no longer edits her edges to fit. The beginning of a leader who commands not by force, but by frequency. The beginning of a life where you stop performing for approval and start living from truth.
And that, right there, is the spiritual awakening.
CTA
When the good girl dies, there’s a gap - a space between who you’ve been and who you’re becoming. And in that space, you have a choice: slip back into the performance, or recalibrate into the identity that actually matches your power.
That recalibration doesn’t happen by accident. It happens by intention, by frequency, by stepping into a container where your nervous system, your identity, and your vision are brought back into alignment.
That’s exactly what we do together on a Breakthrough Recalibration Call. It’s where we strip the mask, reset your frequency, and lock in the woman underneath - the one who builds from truth, not from trauma.
So here’s what I want you to do: pop over to rewiredtorisepodcast.com/episodes. At the top of the page, you’ll see the button that says Quantum Jump! - that’s your entry point.
Don’t let this moment be another insight that fades. Let it be the decision that collapses the timeline. Book your call. Step into the recalibration. And burn the good girl for good.” Thank you so much for spending time with me today - once again you’re listening to the Rewired To Rise Podcast and I am your host Tanya-Marie Dubé.
Don’t forget to grab your somatic mini practice titled “Please Like Me vs. This Is Who I Am” at: https://rewiredtorisepodcast.com/episode027 . I’ll see you on the next episode.