Your No Is The Lamp You Light

The day is ending, and you are finally taking off the armor you wore to keep everyone else comfortable. You catch yourself saying 'I'm sorry' for the space your 'no' just took up.

You shrink your body, making yourself small so the other person doesn't have to feel the weight of your boundary. But notice what happens in that shrinking — you are apologizing for existing.

The light does not ask you to fold yourself into a shape that fits someone else's ease. There was a woman with ten coins who lost one.

She did not apologize to the house for lighting a lamp. She did not ask permission to sweep the dust.

She lit the light and searched until she found what was hers. Your 'no' is that lamp.

It is not an offense; it is the light revealing what belongs to you. When you stop shrinking, you stop hiding the truth that was placed inside you before the world taught you to be polite.

The boundary is not a wall you built to keep love out; it is the edge of the ground where the light stands firm.