The Illusion of Earning Power
There is something quietly humiliating about asking for a raise.
Not because the request is unworthy, but because it presupposes permission. It is a confession—not of your value, but of your dependence.
They call it negotiation, but it’s more like supplication in a well-lit office.
In the theater of corporate advancement, you are taught to believe that progress is measured in promotions, in incremental titles, in annual percentiles. You’re sold the fantasy that a little more money—bestowed, not seized—represents growth. But the truth is more cynical: when you ask for more, you’re often just proving how little you control.
Leverage, unlike a raise, is not granted. It is not requested. It is taken.
Leverage means you can walk away—not in anger, but in indifference. It means your alternatives outweigh their offer. It means you are not negotiating; you are deciding. The moment you stop needing permission is the moment you start being dangerous.
But that path is costly. Leverage isn’t built in comfort. It’s forged in silence, in long nights spent building skills no one told you to pursue, in assets quietly accumulated in the dark. It's in the business you built when no one was watching. The audience never sees the scaffolding beneath the structure. They only notice when it towers.
Most don’t want leverage. They want validation.
The raise is symbolic—a pat on the head, a sign that they’re being seen. But leverage doesn’t care about recognition. It doesn’t need applause. It’s a private rebellion, not a public reward.
So ask yourself: do you truly want more, or do you want to be chosen?
Because those who are chosen can also be unchosen. The game you’re playing isn’t yours. The rules weren’t written with your freedom in mind.
There is a quiet war between dependence and autonomy. Every job, every salary, every boss is a subtle reminder of which side you're on.
And maybe that’s the real question: are you building something they can’t take from you? Or are you still waiting for someone to say “yes”?
Because in the end, it isn’t about the money.
It’s about who’s holding the leash.
And whether you’re the one who put it there.