The Queen of Hearts Burn Book: A Grand Exit for the Things That Never Deserved Us

Cathartic liberation from the rules, roles, and rituals we’re done pretending to care about.

We’ve reclaimed our hotness by unabashedly indulging in our most petty, unhinged deep dives. We’ve curated our deeply personal, gloriously nerdy Geek Lists. We’ve rewritten the rules of taking up space and declared loudly, we won’t and don’t want to take up space like men—thank you very much.

We’ve even explored my most private and frankly traumatic experiences with floods and duck shoes (it’s okay, you can laugh—I do). Since this is a totally safe space and I’ve earned your trust, right? Now? Now we burn.

Allow me to reveal the queen of all self-love checkmates:

The Burn Book.

Yes, I said Burn Book. And if you misread that and are here for book burning, this is not the place. Kindly show yourself out.

This isn’t about setting literature on fire—it’s about setting fire to the things that never actually loved us back. The sneaky, insidious, under-the-radar expectations we’ve been carrying unchecked for a lifetime.

You know exactly what those things are, don’t you?

The “rules” you didn’t even realize you were following.
The expectations that felt “normal” until you questioned them.
The silent, suffocating ways we shrink—because it’s assumed we will cooperate.

And today? We’re burning them. So grab your Geek Lists, your pettiest grievances, and the things you are so ready to leave behind. Because this time, we’re not just setting it on fire. We’re replacing it with something better.

“This Thing Never Deserved Me in the First Place"

Now, before you clutch your pearls and assume you are dealing with the High Burn Book Mistress herself, allow me to confess, I never had a Burn Book. I’ve never read one, signed one, or held one in my hot little hands.

Yep. Total BB virgin. That’s me.

I know. A waste of my youth. A tragic, unfulfilled potential. But rest assured, I was a Nice Girl™. The girl who followed the rules, stayed in her lane, made herself digestible. The girl who got mad and then swallowed it whole, because girls don’t do that—not unless we want to be labeled too much, too difficult, too sensitive (or, worst of all, not nice).

And so, I never burned. Not in the way I should have.

I burned vicariously through Mean Girls (the original, obviously). I felt the catharsis of Regina George’s downfall. I lived for the way Janis Ian lit a match and watched the world burn around her. But a Burn Book of my own? One where I got to call out the things that never served me?

I wouldn’t dare. But now?

Now, I would. And now, I am. We all are.

We’re breaking up. And it’s cathartic. And it’s hilarious. And it’s absolutely necessary. It’s the perfect excuse to drop some truth bombs, get a little cathartic pettiness out of our systems (in the name of self-love, of course), and make space for the things that actually love us back.

This all started in Sunday Stories, where I invited you to drop your best, most rage-flavored burns into The Queen of Hearts Burn Book. And babes? You delivered. With fire. With precision. With the kind of unfiltered, that’s been sitting in my drafts for YEARS energy that I live for.

And now, we’re doing this properly.

Let’s burn.

The Rules of the Burn Book (There Are No Rules, Burn It All)

This is not a list of ex-boyfriend grievances (though, if you need that, by all means). This is not a book of regrets. This is a reckoning with every expectation, every sneaky, insidious, under-the-radar rule we’ve been carrying like a clutch purse that never quite matches the outfit.

Burning the expectation that we must be effortlessly beautiful. (Hot, but make it low-maintenance. Radiant, but pretend you don’t try. "No-makeup makeup" is a full-blown scam.)

Burning the idea that aging is something to be "fixed." (We do not expire. We do not "let ourselves go." We evolve. If anything, I feel sorry for my 20s.)

Burning the constant battle with ourselves. (How many times have you deleted 299 out of 300 photos, only to keep the one where you’re contorted into an angle that doesn’t even look like you? No. No more. You are lovely. Read that again.

Burning the need to be likable. (How much energy have we wasted making sure we’re the right amount of everything? Too much? Tone it down. Too quiet? Speak up. Too loud? Shhh. No. We are done taking feedback from the peanut gallery.)

Burning the Nice Girl. (I’m talking about the version of you who stays quiet, who smiles through the discomfort, who makes herself small because she was told that’s what being "good" looks like. Consider her gone.)

Your Self-Love Checkmate, Try This

Here’s your royal invitation to make your next move. Because it’s time. Time to clear the board, take the throne, and leave behind everything that’s been playing you instead of serving you. This is your Queen’s Gambit moment. (Gasp, her wardrobe in the show….?!? Another post for another time.) A strategic, deliberate move to checkmate the things that have been holding you back, because the Queen always has another move.

1. Break Up with the Pawn Moves

Pawns play small. They move one square at a time. They wait to be sacrificed for the “bigger picture.” Sound familiar?

What’s been keeping you in place? What have you been telling yourself that isn’t even true?

The rule you’ve been following that doesn’t actually serve you.
The tired excuse you’ve used as a reason to stay comfortable.
The thing you keep saying you’ll do "when you're ready" (newsflash: you’re ready).

Because your knight? He’s been captured. By self-doubt. And honestly? He wasn’t bringing much to the table anyway.

2. Crown Yourself Queen

You’re stepping into your era. The Queen doesn’t ask permission. She moves.

What’s the energy, aesthetic, or mood of this next version of you? What’s the feeling? The essence?

What does she own? Not just material things—the space, the power, the presence.
How does she move? Through a room, through the world, through her life?
What has she stopped apologizing for?
What is she saying HELL YES to?

Find the images that capture her. Not just the obvious—the outfits, the workspace, the dream home—but the details that tell the real story.

Because this isn’t just a mood board. It’s a manifesto.

3. The Queen’s Checkmate

A Queen doesn’t dwell on what’s lost. She moves forward.

What’s one bold move you’re making this season? The boundary you’re enforcing. The new standard you’re holding. The risk you’re taking. The thing you’re letting burn.

Because this isn’t just about letting go—it’s about making space for something bigger.

A Comprehensive List Of Things That Never Loved Us Back—But We’re Finally Done Pretending We Owe Them Anything.

Organized for your convince, of course.

This isn’t just about the petty grievances (though, trust me, we’ll get to those). This is about liberation. About laying down the rules we never signed up for and laughing while we set them on fire. And, in all seriousness, about how damn good it feels to let go. Especially when you’re not doing it alone. So now…drumroll, please.

The Ghostwriter of Their Own Life (Formerly: “I Just Jot Things Down” Girl)

What they’re burning:

• Calling it “just a little thing I wrote” while watching people with half the talent and twice the audacity go viral for their subpar opinions.

• Editing the same sentence for three days like this is a Supreme Court ruling and not a Substack post.

• Googling “am I a writer” instead of just hitting publish.

What they’re doing instead:

• Owning it: If you write, you’re a writer. Period.

• Posting before the overthink sets in—because messy, real words > unpublished perfection.

• Realizing that some guy just wrote 2,000 words about his morning oatmeal and made it a New York Times op-ed.You? You are fine.

What their friends say (Is this you?!?) :

• “Oh, you’re not a writer? Then why do I have 18 texts from you that read like a New Yorker essay?”

• “Babe, you literally take notes while we talk. Just start the damn Substack.”

Also getting tossed in the fire:
“I need more time to refine this” as an excuse for not posting.
Refine it on the page. That’s what readers are for.

Comparing your work to someone who hits publish while you hesitate.
You know the ones. And if they have the confidence to post, so do you.

The belief that writing has to be groundbreaking to be worth sharing.
Your last favorite post? Probably just someone being honest.

Being a better writer than half of Twitter but still acting like you need permission to take up space. Enough. You’re up.

The Astro Oracle (Formerly: “Not That Into Astrology” Girl)

What they’re burning:

• Pretending they don’t check Co-Star before responding to a text.

• Acting like they’re totally normal about astrology while full-body wincing at a Gemini man reveal.

• Saying “I don’t really believe in all that” while giving a TED Talk on someone’s moon sign.

What they’re doing instead:

• Reading birth charts at the first sign of a red flag—no more wasting time on incompatible elements.

• Letting people show up late, cancel last minute, or act shady— but never letting them lie about their sign.

• Telling their friends mercury retrograde isn’t real while also cancelling all plans during mercury retrograde.

What their friends say (Is this you?!?) :

• “I’m texting you my date’s birth time. I need answers by Friday.”

• “I don’t believe in astrology but like... why was everything you said right??”

• “Explain why my ex was a walking red flag in three planets or less.”

The Scene-Stealer (Formerly: “Delete That Now” Girl)

What they’re burning:

• Taking 300 photos, keeping one, and still feeling weird about it.

• Saying “I’m not photogenic” instead of admitting they just hate bad photos of themselves.

• Only wearing the fun outfit on vacation, as if real life doesn’t deserve a little drama.

What they’re doing instead:

• Taking the damn photo. Posting it. Moving on.

• Letting themselves be fully seen—no weird poses, no overthinking, no deleting 297 out of 300 shots.

• Dressing like they’re one spontaneous opportunity away from being discovered for something.

What their friends say (Is this you?!?) :

• “No, stand over here. The light hits better. I got you.”

• “You’re literally gorgeous in all of these, can you stop.”

• “Just post it. If you hate it later, delete it. But you won’t.”

Also getting tossed in the fire:
The belief that you have to “earn” beautiful things.
Wear the dress. Use the fancy perfume. Drink the expensive wine on a Tuesday. It’s yours.

The Reformed People-Pleaser (Now on a Strict ‘No’ Diet)

What they’re burning:

• Saying “it’s fine” when it is, in fact, not fine.

• Being described as “chill” when what people really mean is “low-maintenance and easy to ignore.”

• Holding in their opinion until someone else says it first.

What they’re doing instead:

• Talking louder when people try to talk over them.

• Saying “no” with no softening phrases, no explanations, no follow-up essays.

• Walking at their normal pace instead of slowing down to match someone else’s.

What their friends say (Is this you?!?):

• “You literally hate that. Just say you hate it.”

• “No, actually, you’re not overreacting.”

• “Yes, queen, be difficult.”

The Universal Ick List (For Everyone)

(A special category for the general annoyances, inconveniences, and absurdities that unite us all.)

What we’re burning:
Hotel mirrors with that weird blue lighting that makes you look like you haven’t slept since 2013.
Accidentally opening your front camera and seeing yourself from below.
Phone alarms that sound like an air raid siren.
Voicemails. But really—why do we need them at all? It’s called texting.
Restaurant tables that are so wobbly you have to shove a napkin under the leg like an amateur carpenter.
Group chats where someone types “hey” and then goes silent for five minutes.
Store doors that pull when they should push (or vice versa). Instant trust issues.
People who start a sentence with “No offense but—” and then say something deeply offensive.
Clothes that fit in the dressing room but betray you in real life.
The checkout screen aggressively asking for a 25% tip when you literally did all the work.
QR code menus that never load.
People who say “Let’s circle back” when we both know we’re never speaking about this again.
Toasters with no universal setting. It’s either raw bread or literal fire hazard.
Pants without pockets. Why. Why. Why.
Overpriced airport water. $7.99? To hydrate?
People who insist on standing right behind you in line, breathing audibly.
The phrase “You should smile more.”
When you pick the wrong checkout line and spend five minutes questioning every life decision.

Make it Fun

We’re not just burning the nonsense alone in our living rooms like some kind of solemn ritual (though, if that’s your vibe, fully support). Let’s make it a full send-off. A dramatic, petty, joyful purge.

Here’s how to make it fun:

Host a Burn Book Bash. Everyone brings their grievances (big and small), writes them down, and we toss them in the fire, rip them to dramatic shreds—whatever feels right. Bonus points if wine and dramatic music are involved.

Drop Your Burns in a Group Chat. Have a digital purge with your people. No problem too big, too small, or too ridiculous. (Yes, Karen at work who replies-all for no reason belongs in the flames.)

Make It a Game Night. Everyone writes their burns on slips of paper, toss them in a bowl, and then randomly draw and read them out loud—like Cards Against Humanity, but personal and cathartic.

Go Full Ceremony Mode. Write down what’s not serving you, burn it (safely), then blast your favorite song, dance it out, and reclaim your energy.

Petty Pyromania But Make It Digital. Screenshot your burns. Post them. Tag me. Let’s make a whole damn bonfire of things that never deserved us.

And in all seriousness, thank you for indulging me, for being part of this "this thing never deserved me in the first place" liberation. I’m so deeply grateful you’re here for my big love (and a little irreverence) musings.

Can’t wait to play with you next week.

Because you know I’d never gatekeep this from you. xx Lisa