I think it's awesome when a woman is in control of everything

The words of Charli XCX—“I think it's awesome when a woman is in control of everything she's doing, especially in an industry like this where people think that doesn't happen often, but it really does”—resonate like the voice of a modern oracle. In her declaration, she does not merely celebrate independence; she honors mastery, self-command, and creative sovereignty. To be a woman in control is not merely to direct the course of one’s work, but to wrestle with centuries of expectation, to shape her destiny with her own hands while the world watches in disbelief. Her statement stands as a banner for all those who refuse to yield their craft to the invisible strings of conformity.

In the music industry, a place long shadowed by gatekeepers and power structures, such words carry the thunder of rebellion. Charli XCX, known for her fearless innovation and refusal to fit into conventional molds, speaks not from idealism but from experience—from the fire of managing her own creative realm. To be “in control” is to command the storm, to choose every note, every lyric, every rhythm with intention and soul. It is to reject the whisper that women must be directed by others, and instead, to stand as the architect of one’s own vision, unbent, unbought, and unbroken.

This spirit of self-governance echoes through time, from the voices of queens and scholars who forged their place in history against the tide. Think of Hatshepsut, the pharaoh of Egypt who ruled as a king in all but name. In a world that had no language for her power, she carved her likeness in stone with the beard of authority, declaring not her gender, but her dominion. Or consider Frida Kahlo, who painted her pain, her identity, her control over chaos onto every canvas. Each woman, like Charli, claimed authorship of her life and art—not through permission, but through defiance.

Yet Charli’s words reveal another layer of wisdom: the quiet truth of perception versus reality. “People think that doesn’t happen often,” she says, “but it really does.” There is a lesson here—one that teaches us not to believe the illusions woven by society’s noise. The world often celebrates only a few visible names, yet behind the curtains, countless women shape empires, design worlds, and write the songs that others sing. Control is not always shouted from rooftops; sometimes it is silent, patient, and fierce.

There is also humility in her words: “From my knowledge and how I manage my own project.” This is not the arrogance of power, but the wisdom of self-awareness. True control begins not with the domination of others, but with the mastery of one’s own vision and choices. To know oneself—to understand the rhythm of one’s purpose and act in harmony with it—is the highest form of command. The ancients taught that the greatest rulers were those who first ruled their hearts. Charli’s insight belongs to that same lineage of thought.

Let us take from this teaching a call to agency. In whatever realm we dwell—music, art, craft, or daily life—control must not be feared, but cultivated. For when we stand as the authors of our own stories, we awaken the divine power of creation within us. The woman who knows her strength and guides her destiny is not merely “awesome”; she is sacred—a living testament to the potential of human will.

And so, to those who listen: do not wait for permission to command your art or your path. Take ownership of your craft, your choices, your truth. Study deeply, act boldly, and lead with grace. Remember that in every age, progress was born not from obedience, but from those who dared to steer their own course. Let Charli’s words remind you that the light of self-mastery burns brightest in those who refuse to let others dim it.

For in the end, control is not domination—it is freedom, and freedom is the melody that makes life worth the song.