The Day I Stopped Fearing Institutions — And Everything Changed
There’s a moment in every leader’s life when theory ends and reality begins.
For me, that moment came when I took on a long-term insurance company — Sanlam — not with rage, not with entitlement, but with clarity, law, and calm.
This wasn’t about money. It was about dignity, truth, and power.
And it taught me more about leadership than any boardroom ever did.
The Context—And the Quiet Complexity
Years earlier, while working professionally in the financial services industry, I was building my career with confidence. During that period, certain health symptoms began to surface intermittently — not in a way that was immediately diagnosable and not in a manner that impaired my professional functioning at the time.
After leaving that role, those symptoms later resurfaced and evolved over time. When clarity eventually emerged, it became evident — supported by medical records and timelines — that the originating condition had begun during my period of active employment and coverage.
When the condition later revealed itself, I did what any reasonable person would do: I lodged a claim within the legal prescription period.
That’s where things became… educational.
The insurer applied its own internal six-month prescription, despite the law clearly allowing three years. I challenged it. Twice. And won.
Calmly. In writing. With statutes.
No theatrics.
The response? Escalation. Delay. Paperwork. Fatigue tactics. Bureaucracy.
Claim denied—twice. I then escalated it—as per their bureaucratic process to their internal Arbitrator, who also denied—twice.
Lesson One: Empire Assumes You’ll Fold
What most people don’t realise is this:
Large institutions are not built to seek truth. They are built to test endurance.
If you withdraw emotionally — they win. If you get angry — they win. If you comply quietly — they win.
But if you stay calm, precise, and sovereign… something shifts.
Lesson Two: Turn the Lens Back on Power
Insurance companies assess you. Your history. Your credibility. Your weaknesses.
So I did the same.
- I examined the assessor and discovered she was a physiotherapist now assessing complex neurological claims and questioned the objectivity of that assessment.
- After the claim was denied, I also asked why a reassessment would go back to the same assessor who had already declined the claim. How would the same person look at the claim objectively, differently and impartially through the same set of optics yet arrive at a different conclusion? This fit Einstein's insanity theory, that
Insanity is doing the same thing over and over again and expecting different results
That did not go down well.
Because power does not like being mirrored.
Claim denied. Again.
Lesson Three: “Internal Arbitration” Is a Paradox
I was then routed into internal arbitration.
Let’s pause there.
An “independent” arbitrator… a corporate lawyer—paid by the insurer… tasked with ruling against his paymaster.
That is not neutrality. That is structural conflict.
I raised it.
Not emotionally. Not theatrically. But clearly.
And then I took it further — to the National Financial Ombud.
Lesson Four: Bureaucracy Is a Weapon
When a claim is declined at most reputable insurers, the pathway is clear: you can go to the Ombud if you're not happy. Order. Process. Finality.
What I encountered at Sanlam instead was something far more… educational.
A process layered within a process. Review following review. Then internal arbitration following internal arbitration. Reconsiderations looping back to their point of origin. Assessments that seemed strangely familiar. Letters carefully worded — polished, precise, and meticulously defensive.
Not chaos. Not incompetence. Attrition.
Because when you add enough steps, time does the heavy lifting. When you multiply paperwork, exhaustion becomes policy. When you stretch a process long enough, reality bends — not through force, but through fatigue.
This model doesn’t rely on outcomes. It relies on probabilities. 🎯 That claimants are tired. That they are emotionally depleted. That they are resource-constrained. That very few will have the appetite — or the means — to keep walking when the corridor keeps extending. 🚪➡️🚪➡️🚪
Bureaucracy, at scale, becomes a strategy. And strategy, when unnamed, thrives.
So I did the only thing that disrupts systems like this. I named the pattern. Calmly. On record. In writing.
And something interesting happens when you do that.
The noise quietens. The tone shifts. And suddenly, the machinery realises it’s no longer dealing with a file… …but with a thinking human who isn’t leaving the room.
Empire is comfortable with silence. It is far less comfortable with clarity 🔥
The Deeper Truth: Empire Fears the Calm Challenger
Here’s what I learned — and this matters for every leader reading this:
Power expects submission or chaos. It is deeply unsettled by calm sovereignty.
When you:
- know the law,
- regulate your nervous system,
- speak without apology,
- and refuse to be rushed or intimidated,
Empire wobbles.
Not because you are louder — but because you are unmovable.
This Is the Work We Do at Elysium
At Elysium, we don’t teach people how to fight.
We teach them how to stand.
- How to engage institutions without fear
- How to face authority without shrinking
- How to challenge power without losing their soul
- How to alchemise pressure into clarity
- How to convert moments of confrontation into leverage, wisdom, and leadership presence
This is not about rebellion. It’s about sovereignty.
A Question You May Have Been Avoiding
Where in your life are you being tested — not to fight harder, but to stand calmer?
Because when you stop fearing power… power starts respecting you.
Have you ever been corporately betrayed or even betrayed by a loved one—quietly sidelined, gaslit by process, exhausted by systems that promised protection but delivered silence? Have you ever done everything “right” and still felt unseen, unheard, or subtly punished for your integrity, intelligence, or courage? If part of this story stirred something in you—if you felt a quiet yes in your body rather than a loud reaction in your mind—then you’re not alone. Many women don’t burn out because they’re weak. They burn out because they’re awake in systems that reward compliance over conscience.
There is a moment in every life where the soul whispers, “I’m ready now.” Ready to stop surviving. Ready to stop explaining. Ready to return to clarity, sovereignty, and inner authority.
If you’re ready to build that kind of leadership from the inside out:
Not to become louder. But to become unshakeable.
Welcome to Elysium. Welcome Home.