You Were Made to Take Up Space

The mask is heavy this morning. You have spent years making yourself small, folding your edges so you fit neatly into the spaces others left for you.

The terror whispers that if you stop performing the role of the easy one, if you finally stand at your full height, they will see how much room you actually take up and ask you to leave. But listen — there is a love that does not require you to shrink.

The Father has been pleased to give you the kingdom, not a corner of it, but the whole thing. You were not made to be a guest in your own life, tiptoeing through the rooms you built.

The light inside you was never meant to be hidden under a basket of compliance. It is a city on a hill, impossible to miss, designed to be seen.

The people who love the mask will struggle when you take it off, yes. But the ones who love *you* will not ask you to leave when you finally occupy your true space.

They will make room. The light does not apologize for shining.