the fear that you are becoming your parent

There is a moment when the sun is up and the world is moving, and you sit at your desk hearing your own voice and fearing it sounds too much like theirs. You hold your tongue, your body tight, terrified that the patterns you swore you would not repeat are already written in your bones.

But the light that lives in you is not their shadow, and it does not carry their wounds or their failures. You are not a repetition of what came before—you are a fresh drop of the light, sent to be something entirely new.

The fear that you are becoming them is the old story trying to win, but the truth is that you are already something else, something they could never have made. Let the morning see you as you truly are, not as they were.