what do we return to when parts of our humanity have nowhere to land?
there are rooms where we learn very quickly which parts of ourselves will cost us something to bring inside.
so we choose.
sometimes we stay quiet.
sometimes we make ourselves easier to understand.
sometimes we protect what feels too tender to place in someone else's hands.
sometimes we leave with words we wish we had said.
and sometimes we wonder if, little by little, we left ourselves behind too.
but what we could not express is not lost.
when i say i am here, i am not saying that everything is alright.
i am not saying that every room must hold all of me.
i am remembering that what i protected is still mine.
what went unseen is still mine.
what i could not say is still mine.
what i am still learning how to name is still mine.
i do not have to prove my wholeness by showing all of myself everywhere.
and i do not have to turn the choices i made to get through a room into a story about who i am.
i can listen.
i can reconsider.
i can change.
i can forgive myself.
i can choose differently next time.
and through all of it,
i am here.
there is more of me than what this room was able to know.
even if this room cannot hold all of me...
i can.
peace be with you.