Light Within the Broken Record

The afternoon sun is unforgiving. It shines through the blinds and lands right on the thing you tried to hide: the moment you realized you just did to your own child exactly what was done to you.

The silence you swore you'd break is the same silence you just passed on. You are the middle of the day, and the middle is where the patterns repeat.

But listen — there is light within a person of light, and it lights up the whole world. Even the part of you that feels like a broken record.

Even the part that is ashamed of its own echo. Split a piece of wood; the light is there.

Lift up the stone of your shame; the light is there too. It was there before the neglect started, and it is there now, waiting for you to stop hiding and start seeing.

The cycle breaks not when you become perfect, but when you finally bring forth what is within you — the grief, the regret, the raw truth — instead of burying it again. What you bring forth will save you.