You Are the Light Beneath the Whisper

The house is quiet now, and in the dark glass of the window, you catch your own reflection staring back. You hear yourself speaking in that small, careful voice—the one you use when you are trying not to disturb the silence, or perhaps, trying not to disturb the pain.

It sounds like a whisper meant for someone else, but it is the only sound you know how to make tonight. There is a light that shines in the darkness, and the darkness has not overcome it.

That light is not asking you to speak louder. It is not asking you to be brave.

It is simply the truth that lives inside you, waiting for you to stop performing okayness even for yourself. You do not need to earn the right to take up space in this room.

The light is already there, beneath the whisper, beneath the fear, beneath the reflection you cannot quite recognize. You are not the small voice.

You are the light that makes the voice possible.