At 24, I was the definition of a 'nice girl'. I spent my years being the perfect girlfriend. You know the type - cooking elaborate meals, writing thoughtful notes, planning surprise dates, and making excuses for men who couldn't even bother to text back.

I was that girl who'd drop everything to help a guy through his "struggles," only to watch him end up with someone who barely gave him the time of day.  I was the one they leaned on during tough times, only to watch them walk away and commit to women who barely gave them the time of day. At the time, I thought I was doing everything right. I was a giver, a caretaker, the “ideal partner.”

By 27, I had a master's degree in psychology, a thriving therapy practice. But in my personal life,I kept attracting emotionally unavailable men who saw me as their personal therapist. I dated them all: the charming startup founder who "wasn't ready for labels," the aspiring musician who needed "space to create," the corporate lawyer who was "too busy" for a relationship but always called at 2 AM.

My rock bottom? A three-year relationship with a man I thought was "the one." He was successful, charming, and knew exactly what to say.

Within months, I was helping him manage his business, plan his future, and even repair his relationship with his family. I became his personal assistant, therapist, and cheerleader rolled into one. Meanwhile, he kept pushing back our timeline for getting engaged, saying we needed to "focus on his goals first."

The signs were there. The unanswered texts when he was "networking." The female colleague he was "mentoring." The way he'd dismiss my accomplishments but expect celebration for his smallest wins. But I ignored them all, convinced that if I just loved him enough, supported him enough, he'd finally see my worth.

Then came the Instagram post. His "mentee" wearing my grandmother's ring - the one he had "borrowed" to get it resized as a surprise for me. They had been engaged for months, conducting their relationship in plain sight while I was too blind to see it.

I spiraled. Stopped eating. Stopped sleeping. Lost clients. My best friend found me one night, surrounded by self-help books and empty wine bottles, analyzing his zodiac chart for answers.

That's when she introduced me to her mentor, a former model turned relationship coach. "Darling," she said, "you're operating with little girl energy in a femme fatale world."

That moment marked the start of my transformation. For six months, I threw myself into rediscovering my power. I studied under relationship experts in Paris, New York, and Milan. I researched the psychology of attraction, the power of feminine energy, and most importantly - the art of becoming magnetic rather than pursuing.

The change was immediate. The same men who once left me on read were now double texting. The "commitment-phobes" were suddenly planning futures. My DMs filled with high-value men asking for proper dates - no "Netflix and chill," no last-minute plans.

But the true test came at my ex's charity gala. He froze mid-speech when I walked in, radiating feminine power in a red dress that cost more than his monthly rent. His new fiancée spent the night anxiously watching his eyes follow me. He tried to "reconnect" seven times that night - I declined each attempt with a smile that said "you had your chance."

Within months, my life was unrecognisable. I had CEOs sending their private jets, surgeons sending rare orchids to my office, and entrepreneurs planning elaborate dates. One flew in my favorite macarons from Paris just for a chance to take me to dinner. But here's the real magic: I stopped caring about their validation. The validation I once desperately sought from men became irrelevant.

I found my power in magnetism, in setting boundaries, in becoming the woman who knows her worth. The woman who doesn’t need to chase, because she’s pursued by those who recognize her value.

Now, I help women undergo the same transformation. My clients go from being "good girls" who accept breadcrumbs, to becoming forces of nature. From anxiously checking their phones to confidently declining lackluster offers. From accepting breadcrumbs to inspiring grand gestures.

The secret? It's not about playing games or following rules. It's about awakening your dark feminine energy - the magnetic force that makes men obsess over you while maintaining your mysterious allure.

You don't need another self-help book telling you to "love yourself first." You need a complete paradigm shift. The same shift that took me from being a man's emotional support animal to being the woman he regrets losing.

If my story resonates with you, I want you to know: you don’t have to live like this anymore. The transformation is waiting for you. It’s time to stop settling and start becoming the woman you were always meant to be.

I look forward to reading your feedback on your journey into dark feminine energy.

Your rebirth starts now.

Magnetically yours,
Scarlett