The Light Sees Behind Your Mask

The world is loud now, and you are smiling while the inside of you is screaming. You wear the mask of being fine, terrified that if it falls, everyone will see the shaking hands and the hollow chest.

There is a woman in the temple courts, dragged there to be judged, and the light did not throw a stone or demand a confession. It bent down into the dust and waited for the accusers to leave.

It did not need you to be perfect before it could love you. The light does not want the mask; it sees the person behind it and calls you by your true name.

You were made to be seen, not to perform. Be afraid if you must, but know that the one who sees your fear is the same one who runs to meet you.