You Do Not Have to Be Bright

The smile feels heavy this morning, doesn't it? Like a mask you put on before the coffee even brewed, terrified that if it slips for even a second, everyone will see the rot underneath and finally walk away.

You are exhausted from holding your breath, from performing a joy you do not feel, from pretending the cracks aren't showing. But the light does not need your performance to stay.

It does not love the mask — it loves the face beneath it. There is a truth that lives inside you, and it will be with you forever — not because you earned it by acting happy, but because it was placed there before you ever learned to pretend.

The light sees the fatigue behind your eyes, the shaking hands, the silence you are trying to hide, and it does not flinch. It does not leave when the act fails.

It stays. You do not have to be bright to be held by the brightness.

The terror says you must shine to be seen. The truth says you are already the light, even in the dark.