You Are Not an Imposter in the Light

The mask feels heavy this morning, doesn't it? You walk into the room carrying the quiet terror that today is the day they finally see through you.

That they will discover you don't belong here, that you are just pretending to be whole while breaking inside. You smile at the right moments.

You nod. You perform the version of yourself that you think the world requires.

But the gap between your face and your heart feels like a canyon. — The light does not need your performance.

It never asked for a mask. There is a truth living inside you that was placed there before you ever learned to hide.

It does not care about your credentials or your confidence. It knows the real you—the tired one, the doubting one, the one who feels like a fraud—and it calls that one worthy.

You are not an imposter in the light. You are its home.