The Light Holds You Without The Mask

The morning light is up, and so is the performance. You are rehearsing every sentence before you speak, terrified that a single slip will reveal the fraud inside and make them leave.

You walk through the day wearing a mask of okayness, convinced that if they saw the real you, they would turn away. But the light does not scan for errors.

It sees behind the mask. There is nothing concealed that will not be disclosed, and nothing hidden that will not be known.

The very thing you are hiding—the fear, the fatigue, the fragile humanity—is already seen. And it is not met with rejection.

It is met with a love that runs ahead of your next words. You do not have to hold the mask in place.

The light is already holding you.