Don’t Flatter Me—Find Yourself First

Lakya Garrison
Sep 11
3 min read

“Follow my example, as I follow the example of Christ.” — 1 Corinthians 11:1

Imitation only honors when it’s rooted in divine alignment. Paul’s call wasn’t to mimic the surface—it was to reflect substance. Imitation without spirit isn’t inspiration. It’s impersonation.

There was a moment—quiet, but seismic—when I saw a close friend wearing her hair in the exact same style I'd cultivated for myself. Not just similar. The same. At first glance, it felt like a betrayal dressed as a compliment. Her response, delivered with a shrug and a smile, was the age-old phrase:

"Imitation is the sincerest form of flattery."

But I disagree. Deeply. And here's why.

🔥 Copying Isn’t Honoring—It’s Erasing

When someone mimics your look, your moves, your essence, without understanding the story behind it, it doesn’t feel like respect—it feels like theft. What took me seasons of shedding, molding, growing, praying, and blooming to embody… suddenly felt reduced to a trend.

Ever since the movie Single White Female, with Jane Fonda and Jennifer Jason Leigh, I've loathed copycats. Not because I believe I’m untouchable. But because I believe every woman should be unrepeatable.

I’ve even joked (with an edge of honesty) that I would never want to be someone like Beyoncé—not because she’s not iconic; clearly, she is—but because the spotlight she occupies seems haunted by clones. Her artistry is dissected, mirrored, and diluted in routines that borrow too much and honor too little.

✨ Creativity Has Roots, Not Replicas

Yes, all innovation is born from something before. But there’s a fine line between building on influence and performing someone else's identity. If you’re going to be inspired by me, let it stir something original in you. Don’t wear my crown with no idea what the weight means.

As a former model, as an image consultant, a minister and as a woman whose styling is a sacred extension of her calling—this is personal. I teach clients that image isn’t just about aesthetics. It’s about authenticity, ownership, and legacy.

Polaroid-style image frames scattered across the graphic — Don’t Flatter Me—Find Yourself First

📝 My Name Is Taken—But Not Owned

My name is LaKya. A name that, in the '80s and '90s, carried so much originality that teachers would pause, squint, and fumble through roll call trying to pronounce it right. I remember the hesitation. The mispronunciations. And the internal decision I made: I would not dilute or redesign my name to make others comfortable.

Fast forward to today—where imitation doesn’t just show up in styling or routines—it shows up in search bars.

There are women online, using my name with my exact spelling, calling themselves models. To the casual eye, it blurs lines. To my audience, it can confuse credibility. And to me—it signals something deeper:

Your originality will always be replicated, but your identity must be protected.

So, I don’t just stand for the uniqueness of my name—I stand for the legacy behind it. I built mine in print, on runways, in coaching sessions, in commercial scripts, in corporate settings, in blog posts, in social circles, in church pulpits on prayer lines and in my prayer closet. My name has a résumé. And no matter how familiar it becomes to the algorithm—it still belongs to a story that no one else can tell.

👑 Legacy Can’t Be Duplicated

I don’t want to be popular. I want to be understood and effective. Popularity invites echoes. Legacy demands depth.

So when people say, “You should be flattered,” I say, “No, I should be respected.” Because identity is not a look—it’s a lived truth with a capital T. And mine isn't available for duplication.

At Keyola Consultants, we don’t duplicate—we define. If you’re ready to step out of mimicry and into mastery, we offer: