There is a version of you the world thinks it knows.
There is also a version of you that lives in the quiet — in the space between heartbeats, in the soft whisper of intuition, in the gaze that lingers a moment longer when you see yourself clearly.

The hardest work you will ever do is unravel the parts of yourself that were pieced together by survival… and not by truth.
To notice the difference between what you agreed to in fear and what you would choose in love.

Because we don’t arrive at authenticity by accident.
We earn it — choice by choice, no by no, letting go by letting go.

And sometimes, you will disappoint others when you begin to honor yourself.
You will stand in rooms where your truth echoes uncomfortably against the walls of another’s expectation.
You will feel the weight of misunderstanding, the sting of judgment, the silence of those who no longer recognize you.

But if the choice is between being seen for who you are not,
or misunderstood while standing in the light of who you are…
Choose the light. Every time.

Because what you allow teaches others how to treat you.
And if you allow falsehoods to define you,
don’t be surprised when they do.

When you people-please your way into connection,
it often comes at the cost of feeling truly seen.
And that ache—the ache of self-betrayal—
is more enduring than anyone else’s disapproval.

So let it be said:
To live with integrity is not to be perfect.
It is to be honest with where you are today,
even knowing tomorrow may evolve you.
It is to say: “This is where I stand now. You are welcome to grow with me, or not.”

There is no shame in change.
There is no failure in outgrowing the places where your voice once trembled.
There is only life — pulsing, stretching, remaking itself through you.

And when your head hits the pillow at night,
may you feel the quiet reward of self-alignment —
that even if the world misunderstood you,
you did not misunderstand yourself.

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🌿 The Weaving

I’ve pieced myself together with strands both light and worn,
some tied in silence, some frayed and torn.
I carried the weight of being the calm,
the one who holds peace, the steady palm.

But I haven’t always waited or stood still.
There were times I rushed in, led by will.
When reaction came before reflection,
and pain spoke louder than connection.
Learning to sit with what stirs inside,
to let the emotion rise, then slide —
that’s been the work, the slow repair,
to stay, to breathe, to truly care.

One day I looked and quietly asked,
“Is this really me, or just a mask?”
I paused at the edges where I’d come undone,
and slowly began to face what I’d outrun.

Not everyone cheers when you stand in your skin —
some only loved the shape you’d been.
But pretending is heavy, and silence loud,
and I’d rather be honest than make others proud.

So I gather what’s real, thread by thread,
not perfect, not polished, but true instead.
A life made of moments I won’t need to hide —
not always easy, but lived from inside.

-Kerri-Elizabeth-

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✨ Journaling Prompt

Where in your life are you still weaving with threads that no longer feel true? What would it look like to begin again with honesty?