You can lead. You can take the first step. You can plant your feet with confidence. You’ve trained for this. You were born ready. You have everything you need inside you. Acknowledging that the first time feels heavy. Like grief. Like loss. Like an elephant (or a Puggle) sitting on your chest. Hell, I threw up the first time I actually admitted that to myself. Not by choice. Exorcism. Because once you know that, you can’t take it back. You can’t un-know that you have literally every ounce of power you’ve ever needed ever ever ever. But it feels heavy, because we’ve been led to believe otherwise. We’ve built lives around the belief that we can’t, and even though that is fucked up, these lives are beautiful. We’ve salvaged dignity and hope and love and peace and assembled something that looks like a life. But that life is a lie. Because you have this power. You never needed it from anyone else. It doesn’t mean YOU are a lie. It means THAT BELIEF is a lie. And that lie gets scorched in the bright shiny truth that is your power, once you get a glimpse of it. It’s rough out here for the big-hearted. For the ones that don’t wear a mask. Who trust openly. But you’ve got this. I’ve got this. We’ve got this. I love you. I see you. I believe you. You matter. And even if you don’t believe it, I know you feel it. And that’s all that matters.
You got this. Feel it. Breathe it. Taste it. Smell it. Touch it. And if you’re not ready to believe me yet, take one from @maker_of_waves; “Hear me now, believe me later.”
I got you when you’re ready to believe it. You know where to find me.