Glitter Guide: How To Protect Your Sparkle

There's a method to the madness. I swear to Lana.

PROTECT YOUR F*CKING SPARKLE.

I’ve been saying this since—I don’t know—2017?

I wrote it in some article I banged out for Elite Daily (I think), but honestly I couldn’t tell you which one.

All I remember is that I didn’t overthink it; it fell out of me organically, and I wasn’t even really sure what I even meant when I wrote it.

The most dangerous and beautiful thing about working in digital media back in those days was that we were so overworked we didn’t have time to doubt ourselves. You published five essays a day or you were fired, that was that. Sometimes the rapid-fire speed made our work crass and irresponsible; unhinged and vacuous—other times it rendered our essays raw and wise; visceral and gut-punching.

For whatever reason, Protect Your Sparkle caught on, quickly, with my audience. Sometimes girls would jot the phrase down, stick it onto their bathroom mirrors or to their desks, and send me pictures. My friends—who notoriously do not read my work—even they adopted it. So much so that it often backfired.

“Eduardo, you’re coming to the after-party, right?” I’d plead.

“No, babe.”

“Pretty please with cherries on top?” I’d bat my lashes flirtatiously because we all know that tactic works on a gay man.

“I have to protect my f*cking sparkle,” he’d answer primly.

Touchè.

With time it became my own personal mantra, especially when I was transitioning from the running-on-fumes-party-girl lifestyle to the well-rested-creative-boss-bitch lifestyle.

For example: I’d be invited to the opening of a nightclub by some acquaintance I vaguely knew through the media circle-jerk. A part of me would think I *had* to go—to you know—” network” (drink for free).

Another part of me, a deeper, wiser part of me would shiver at the thought of spending a Thursday night in a confined dark space surrounded by coke energy. Which is so not my vibe.

Protect your f*cking sparkle, you want to write a book! You can’t write a book with a dead sparkle. I’d tell myself. I’d politely decline, go home and write my heart out.

Honestly, I would’ve never written “Girl, Stop Passing Out In Your Makeup” without that mantra.

Even then I never thought too much about what it actually meant to Protect Your F*cking Sparkle because it just seemed to make innate sense to me and my people. On a whim I started a podcast, (which I’m relaunching later this month), created Substack publication, launched a coaching practice and started working on a book all called (or centered around) Protect Your F*cking Sparkle.

But recently I decided that since I’ve haphazardly, with zero strategy built a fucking brand around this saying—it’s time to get granular about what it *actually* means—like how do you even Protect Your F*cking Sparkle?

Look. I’m all about shooting from the hip—but there comes a point where you’ve got to intellectually understand what you’re talking about. You know, integrity and whatnot.

So I thought about it and came up with this. Here’s a breakdown of what it means to Protect Your F*cking Sparkle:

Identify The F*cking Sparkle

Let’s brainstorm all ~the things~ that light you up. Light you up for real. Even if it seems out of reach or silly.

Maybe it’s being on stage.

Maybe it’s kissing in the blue dark.

Maybe it’s cackling at wildly inappropriate jokes.

Maybe it’s art.

Maybe it’s movement.

Maybe it’s channeling your inner bo$$ bitch.

Maybe it’s being in nature.

Maybe it’s getting litty in the gritty city.

Maybe it’s cooking, or dancing, or giving your friends heartfelt advice.

Whatever *it* is that puts you in a flow state—that makes your insides glitter—that makes time melt away—that feels gorgeously aligned with your core nature—*that* is your sparkle.

Protecting your sparkle means leaning into the things that make you sparkle. Prioritizing the things that make you sparkle. Building a life centered around the things that make sparkle.

Identify the Sparkle Killers

Now it’s time to get down and dirty with the crime. By which I mean—let’s get real about what KILLS your f*cking sparkle.

What makes you feel like a dulled-down, muted version of yourself?

What feels oh-so utterly wrong in the crux of your heart?

What makes your insides scream, “GET ME THE HELL OUT OF HERE!”

What *disconnects* you from you?

Maybe it’s being around a bunch of negative “hanging in there, Sheila,” types (I know you know what I mean).

Maybe it’s your toxic relationship with your lover, family member or longtime friend that makes you feel like shit every time you hang out with them.

Maybe it’s a resentment that you can’t seem to let go of.

Maybe it’s sitting at a desk for nine hours a day.

Maybe it’s substances.

Maybe it’s conforming to a life that just isn’t you.

Maybe it’s a city full of rain.

Or suburb void of art.

Whatever *IT* is that takes you away from yourself and replaces the inner shimmer with matte dread—those are the sparkle killers, darling.

Be The Bouncer Of The Nightclub That Is Your Life

You might not believe what I’m about to say—which I understand, I didn’t believe it either. But now I *know* it’s true: we don’t have to do the things that kill our sparkle nearly as often as we think.

Bottom line is no matter what you’ve gotten yourself into there is always a way out. We are never stuck. We’re far more free than we realize. And what’s waiting for you on the other side is so much better, babe. (Trust me).

In my Protect Your Sparkle coaching practice—we create action plans that steer us AWAY from the sparkle KILLERS and guide us toward the sparkle MAGNIFIERS.

That’s great, Zara—but like I need to make money and get along with the neighbors and like live in the REAL WORLD.

Girl, I know. And I swear to Lana Del Rey—we usually make more money when our work is aligned with our sparkle, we have deeper relationships when we’re living authentically—and so long as you’re awake the world is *always* real. There are just a million ways to live in the real world—why not land in a place where you’re celebrated for who you really are?

But I’ll get more into all that later. For now, please know that I used to feel like blow-up doll most of the time. And not in a sexy way. In trapped, disconnected way. Like you could prop me up anywhere and I’d smile vacantly and make it work.

I felt trapped in my life and in my body. I believed I HAD to fill my life with a slew of sparkle-kill-y things in order to be a functioning member of society. I honestly thought that waking up with dread and pending doom was just the price you pay…for what—? I don’t know. Being alive I guess?

But then on impulse I took Martha Beck’s life coach training course. I was divorced, broke and hopeless. I’d checked off all the boxes: marriage, house in Jersey, book deal, impressive job, impressive friends—only to be living with my parents in Florida at thirty-fucking-six. On top of all that—I’d just come to the sobering realization that I hated chasing algorithms in digital media but I didn’t know what else I could possibly do.

Fuck it, I thought. Let’s take this course.

Taking the course was the best decision I ever made. I learned who I actually was, how to listen to my body’s wise cues, I dissolved the limiting beliefs holding me back from going after my dreams, and ended up designing an extraordinary life that’s not perfect in the slightest—but it’s a thousand percent on my terms.

Yes—last year was the most excruciating year of my life. I watched my brother—the closest person to me—die of pancreatic cancer. I found myself in a terrifying stalking situation. My mom—the other closest person to me—got diagnosed with stage four ovarian cancer three weeks after my brother died in my arms.

But through all the grief and hardship—I’ve never been closer to myself.

I’ve never been more financially and emotionally secure.

I’ve never felt so in alignment.

I’ve never experienced true friendship like I did this year.

The Protect Your Sparkle tools you see—they’ve built me a strong foundation. A structure that keeps me steady no matter how hard life rocks me.

Yes, I still cry and grieve what I lost all the time—but not a day goes by when I’m not teeming with gratitude.

I’m so grateful I don’t wake up with dread anymore. I’m so grateful I’m not disconnected from myself and my feelings (which are my guardian angels). I’m so grateful that in these tough times, I don’t have to robot my way through a soul-sucking job I detest—in fact, the increased sensitivity I’m experiencing in this season of life only fuels my writing and coaching practice. That’s what happens when you’re doing what you’re *meant* to do. You get to honor where you are in your life—and all of it—the good, the bad, the ugly—makes you better.

If I can do this shit, so can you. You just have to do it. If there’s one thing this year has taught me it’s this: stop putting it off. Now is the time to invest in yourself. What you’ll get back is invaluable.

I don’t say this so you’ll be convinced to work with me. That’s not my vibe and I very well might not be the right coach for you. But find something or someone that’ll help you get to where you want to go.

Life is precious, but life is short. Do it today.

(And if you’re curious about working with me—book a free 15-minute consultation. Let’s see if we align).

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