A personal letter from Joseph Benjamin on betrayal, belief, and building a brand rooted in resonance.

For the longest time, I was searching for my “why.”

Not a catchy mission statement. Not something that would look good in a pitch deck. But something strong enough to keep me from walking away. Because the truth is, I’ve almost quit this industry more times than I can count.

And by quit, I don’t mean pause.

I mean fully disappear. Burn it all down. Walk away for good.

I’ve had to ask myself hard questions—not just about the industry, but about myself. About what I tolerated. About the betrayals. The rooms I dimmed my light in just to be accepted. The people who applauded my brilliance in private and buried me in politics in public. I started to question: why was I still trying to belong to an industry that treated me like I was disposable?

If you’ve been following me, you probably know the last project I worked on. You saw the shine. But you didn’t see the cost.

I was deeply undervalued. Overworked. Ignored.

The “white man knows best” syndrome was alive and well on that team.

I was the only one who saw what was coming. And when I spoke up, I was labeled the problem.

Then came the betrayal from my former business partner.

Joseph Benjamin. Founder of Prophecy Brand

A woman who smiled in my face and sabotaged me behind closed doors. She told lies to the head of the project—someone I had built trust and respect with—and instead of coming to me directly, she cut me off. No final conversation. No closure. She violated our contract. She didn’t pay me. She left me to pick up the pieces of something I gave a year of my life to.

What hurt more than being let go was realizing I stayed too long trying to prove myself. Trying to be understood. Trying to be useful in a room that was never going to value me. A room where ego led and everyone else was supposed to stay in line.

So I stepped away.

Not to sulk. But to feel. To process. To sit with what was mine and what wasn’t. And to ask myself the most important question of all:

Is this still what I want?

Do I still want to build brands?

Do I still want to work in fashion, in beauty, in media?

Do I still believe in this?

And the answer, surprisingly, was yes.

But not in the same way. Not under the same rules.

Not in rooms that expect me to shrink in order to contribute.

Because now—I know my why.

And it’s still evolving. But it’s solid.

My why is resonance.

I’ve always been a spiritual person. But for a long time, I thought I had to keep that part of myself hidden from my work. Now I realize that my work is the expression of my spirituality.

We create our lives from what we believe about ourselves and the world. And for too long, there’s been a collective belief that luxury is reserved for the elite. That if you don’t already have access, you’ll never belong. That wealth is aesthetic. That success is exclusive.

But I don’t believe that anymore.

True wealth is community.

It’s being seen. It’s shared knowledge. It’s creating something that makes someone else feel less alone. It’s offering truth without performance. It’s allowing people to witness themselves through your story.

So now, my work is about narrative.

It’s about building a global conversation that helps people see themselves differently. That challenges their assumptions. That expands their understanding of what’s possible.

Everything you experience from Prophecy Brand and Prophecy House will be rooted in that intention. Every article, every event, every campaign, every client we take on—intentional.

We don’t do this for the optics. We do it for the shift.

If you’re still reading this, I want you to know something:

You’re not too much. You’re not behind.

And if you’ve been told you don’t belong—it probably means you’re ahead of your time.

Prophecy Brand Tarot Deck concept by Joseph Benjamin

Pay attention.

The real work is just beginning.For the longest time, I was searching for my “why.”

Not a catchy mission statement. Not something that would look good in a pitch deck. But something strong enough to keep me from walking away. Because the truth is, I’ve almost quit this industry more times than I can count.

And by quit, I don’t mean pause.

I mean fully disappear. Burn it all down. Walk away for good.

I’ve had to ask myself hard questions—not just about the industry, but about myself. About what I tolerated. About the betrayals. The rooms I dimmed my light in just to be accepted. The people who applauded my brilliance in private and buried me in politics in public. I started to question: why was I still trying to belong to an industry that treated me like I was disposable?

If you’ve been following me, you probably know the last project I worked on. You saw the shine. But you didn’t see the cost.

I was deeply undervalued. Overworked. Ignored.

The “white man knows best” syndrome was alive and well on that team.

I was the only one who saw what was coming. And when I spoke up, I was labeled the problem.

Then came the betrayal from my former business partner.

A woman who smiled in my face and sabotaged me behind closed doors. She told lies to the head of the project—someone I had built trust and respect with—and instead of coming to me directly, she cut me off. No final conversation. No closure. She violated our contract. She didn’t pay me. She left me to pick up the pieces of something I gave a year of my life to.

What hurt more than being let go was realizing I stayed too long trying to prove myself. Trying to be understood. Trying to be useful in a room that was never going to value me. A room where ego led and everyone else was supposed to stay in line.

So I stepped away.

Not to sulk. But to feel. To process. To sit with what was mine and what wasn’t. And to ask myself the most important question of all:

Is this still what I want?

Do I still want to build brands?

Do I still want to work in fashion, in beauty, in media?

Do I still believe in this?

And the answer, surprisingly, was yes.

But not in the same way. Not under the same rules.

Not in rooms that expect me to shrink in order to contribute.

Because now—I know my why.

And it’s still evolving. But it’s solid.

My why is resonance.

I’ve always been a spiritual person. But for a long time, I thought I had to keep that part of myself hidden from my work. Now I realize that my work is the expression of my spirituality.

We create our lives from what we believe about ourselves and the world. And for too long, there’s been a collective belief that luxury is reserved for the elite. That if you don’t already have access, you’ll never belong. That wealth is aesthetic. That success is exclusive.

But I don’t believe that anymore.

True wealth is community.

It’s being seen. It’s shared knowledge. It’s creating something that makes someone else feel less alone. It’s offering truth without performance. It’s allowing people to witness themselves through your story.
So now, my work is about narrative.

It’s about building a global conversation that helps people see themselves differently. That challenges their assumptions. That expands their understanding of what’s possible.

Everything you experience from Prophecy Brand and Prophecy House will be rooted in that intention. Every article, every event, every campaign, every client we take on—intentional.

We don’t do this for the optics. We do it for the shift.

If you’re still reading this, I want you to know something:

You’re not too much. You’re not behind.

And if you’ve been told you don’t belong—it probably means you’re ahead of your time.

Pay attention.
The real work is just beginning.

With Resonance,
Joseph Benjamin