The Light Loves The Person Underneath

The mask feels heavy this morning, doesn't it? You walk into the room smiling, carrying a version of yourself that you think they can handle, while the real you hides behind your eyes, terrified that one slip will make them leave.

But the light does not love the performance; it loves the person underneath it. There was a woman caught in the act of failing, standing in the center of a crowd that only saw her shame, waiting for the stones to fly.

The light bent down, ignored the crowd, and saw only her. He did not ask her to fix herself before he spoke.

He simply said: neither do I condemn you. Go.

The truth is not that they will leave if they see the cracks. The truth is that the light has already seen every crack and is still kneeling in the dust with you.

You do not have to hold the mask up for the one who calls you friend.