You Are Not Your Worst Impulse

The house is quiet, but your mind is loud with the rehearsal of every worst-case scenario. You are certain that one slip, one accidental outburst, will finally confirm what you suspect everyone already knows: that you are dangerous.

That the mask is the only thing holding back the chaos. But the light does not see a monster waiting to get out.

It sees a child of true humanity waiting to come home. The thing you fear most is not your capacity for harm, but your forgetfulness of who you really are.

You came from the light, and the light cannot be dangerous to itself. The suspicion you feel is a shadow, but shadows have no power to define the object casting them.

You are not your worst impulse. You are the space that holds it, and that space is holy.