I am an Alien… Seriously
No, not the green, three-headed, man-eating kind—and definitely not E.T. either.
I’m a 5/1 Splenic Manifestor. A combination of characteristics—gifts and shadows—that make me feel alien in a world where 70% of people operate by different principles. And diving into what that means has been nothing short of mind-blowing.
Before Human Design, I spent decades trying to fit in, to be like everyone else, to not rock the boat. All that “southern lady” training of playing nice, staying quiet, and not speaking up? Check, check, and check. The result? Feeling like a failure at pretty much everything.
I wasn’t leaning into my strengths; instead, I was playing small, telling myself a story that me being less would make others feel more. Spoiler alert: it didn’t work.
For example, years ago, I went through a leadership program and later staffed it. Out of 26 coaches, I consistently ranked lowest in leadership qualities. Yet, my Human Design chart practically screams dominance, power, and leadership. The disconnect was real.
I’ve never been a rule-follower. But I wasn’t a leader either because I had this BS story in my head about what leadership should look like. And I wanted to fit in.
But the hard truth? No matter how much I dimmed my light or pretended not to know, some people simply didn’t like me. And it wasn’t because of what I did or said—it was my energy, my Manifestor aura, that they reacted to. But back then, I made their reactions all about me. I was constantly on the move, trying to “fix” whatever it was they found wrong.
Oddly enough, my biggest challenge wasn’t just my Manifestor aura—it was my 5/1 profile. The 5/1 profile is a dance of craving connection and needing solitude. The fifth line projects an energy that’s community-driven, but also a magnet for projections. People don’t always see me; they see what they want to see, a reflection of their own desires and needs.
Here’s how that plays out:
I’ve been offered jobs I had no experience in by people who barely knew me. Cool, right? Absolutely—until it wasn’t. Because the flip side of being a projection field is that close relationships can get complicated. I’ve had friends and partners trying to get me to understand their triggers, while I was trying to get them to understand mine. The kicker? We were both staring at the same wound, but from opposite sides. If I paused to acknowledge their feelings, it was often taken as agreement, leaving my own feelings unvalidated. And if I disagreed, the conversation turned into a stalemate, each of us convinced we were right. Nobody won.
Add my Splenic Authority to the mix—a quiet, in-the-moment intuition that can change plans on a dime—and you’ve got a recipe for perceived flakiness. Canceling at the last minute or suddenly deciding not to show up doesn’t always go over well (shockingly, right?).
So, yeah, I’m as alien as they come. And learning this has been the most exhilarating discovery of my life. But practicing it? In a world that prizes consistency, linear thinking, and external validation? Let’s just say there have been ups and downs. To many, I might seem too emotional, too unpredictable, too much—or not enough.
But here’s the thing.
Being able to step back and think, “Ah, that’s why” or “Of course, that makes sense because…” has allowed me to care about others without falling back into codependent habits, people-pleasing, or pretending I don’t care. It’s freed me from unhealthy relationship patterns and reinforced that the only person who truly defines my worth is me.
And this realization applies to every relationship—whether it’s with people, places, or even ambitions. I know that nothing outside of me can make me feel something I don’t accept. That’s my power: the power to choose, to decide, and to own my life.