You Are Loved Before You Perform

The sun is rising, and with it comes the quiet terror that if you stop performing your pain, everyone will see you for the imposter you believe you are. You have worn your suffering like a credential, convincing yourself it is the only thing making you real to the world.

But the light does not need your performance to recognize you. It saw the faith of those who lowered a friend through a roof, breaking the tiles just to get him close, and it spoke forgiveness before a single word of apology was offered.

You are not loved for the depth of your wound or the eloquence of your grief. You are loved because you are here, breathing in the first light, exactly as you are.

The mask was never required to keep the love near. You can set the heavy thing down now.

The performance is over; the belonging has just begun.