Sacred Reflection

I spent years learning how to vanish.
How to soften my voice,
dim my light,
fold my power into something polite.

I learned to cross my legs,
bite my tongue,
be small enough to be safe.

Too loud, they said.
Too sensitive. Too wild. Too ambitious. Too much.

So I became a shadow.
Hardworking but invisible.
Sexy but silent.
Perfect, but hollow.

I disappeared into the walls
so they could have the stage.
I became the silence behind their spotlight,
the applause behind their voice.

But something in me never agreed.
A wildfire hidden under my skin.
A scream that grew quiet, but never died.

And now, I rise.

I take up space.
I speak with fire.
I show up fully — flaws and all.

I refuse to disappear.
Not for comfort.
Not for approval.
Not even for love.

I am not a second act.
I am not a decorative backdrop.
I am the whole damn story.

So here I am.
Unshrinking.
Unfolding.
Unapologetically alive.