Put Down the Script, You Are Known

You stand before the mirror rehearsing the speech that will make you acceptable to the room. You practice the smile that hides the cracks, terrified that if anyone sees the real you, they will walk away.

But the light does not need your performance. It does not need the polished version you spent all morning building.

There is light within a person of light, and it lights up the whole world—even the parts you are trying to cover up. You came from the light, the place where the light came into being on its own accord, long before you learned to apologize for existing.

The mask is heavy, but the face beneath it is already known and already held. Put down the script.

The room does not need your perfection; it needs the drop of light that only you carry.