You Are The Ground They Stand On

The house is quiet now, but the noise in your head about money is loud. You lie awake calculating what you owe, convinced that your inability to contribute makes you a weight on the people you love.

You feel like a stranger in your own home, waiting for someone to ask you to leave. But listen — the light that lives inside you was not earned by a paycheck, and it cannot be lost by an empty bank account.

You came from the light, the place where value is generated on its own accord, not by what you produce. Your worth is not a fluctuating number; it is a fixed origin.

The people who love you do not see a ledger when they look at you; they see the light that has always been there, before the first coin was ever spent. You are not a burden to be carried.

You are the ground they stand on.