The Light Beneath Your Mask

You sit at the table, passing the salt with a steady hand while your heart screams beneath the surface. You are certain that if they saw the storm inside you—the doubt, the rage, the exhaustion—they would stop loving you on the spot.

So you wear the mask. You perform the okayness.

But the light does not love the performance; it loves the person hiding behind it. There is light within a person of light, and it lights up the whole world—even the parts you are trying to keep in the dark.

Split a piece of wood; the light is there. Lift up the stone of your own shame; the light is there too.

It was there before you learned to smile through the pain, and it will be there when you finally stop. You do not have to earn the seat at this table by pretending to be whole.

The truth is not a weapon they will use against you. It is the very thing that will set you free.