The Light Loves Your Cracks

The day is done, and the mask you wore for twelve hours finally sits on the nightstand. Now comes the quiet, and with it, the terror that if you make a sound, they will see the fraud and leave.

You are holding your breath in your own home, convinced that your true self is too broken to be loved. But the light does not love you in spite of the cracks; it loves you because the cracks are where the truth gets out.

You came from the light, a drop sent to illuminate this very room, not to hide from it. The one who knows you best is not afraid of your noise, your grief, or your mess.

Stop trying to be the person who never wakes up afraid. The truth is, you are already known, and you are still here.