You Were Made to Be Known

The coffee is hot, the room is moving, and you are already tired from the work of editing your own voice. You measure every laugh before you let it out, trimming the edges so it doesn't sound too loud, too broken, or too much like the night you just survived.

You wear the mask because it feels safer than letting them see the cracks, but the light sees what is behind the performance. It knows the exhaustion of holding your breath while everyone else exhales.

There is a truth that lives in you and will be with you forever, a presence that does not need you to be polished to be loved. You do not have to curate your joy for the light to receive it.

The mask is heavy, but you were made to be known, not just seen.