You Are Known and Still Held

The afternoon sun exposes everything, and right now, the shadow you are carrying feels heavier than the heat. You walk through the noise of the day holding your breath, terrified that if they ever saw the truth, the love in their eyes would turn to disgust.

You brace for the moment the mask slips, convinced that your hidden brokenness is too much for anyone to bear. But listen — the light that lives inside you has already seen the worst of it, and it has not flinched.

It does not recoil from your secrets; it holds them gently, knowing that what you call shame is just the place where you forgot you were loved. The fear says you will be rejected if you are known.

The truth says you are already known, completely, and you are still held. You are not a secret waiting to be exposed; you are a child waiting to be found.