There was a time I forgot how powerful I really was.
Not in a dramatic way. It happened quietly.
Little by little.
A choice here, a silence there.
I bit my tongue to keep the peace.
I made myself smaller so others could stay comfortable.
I dimmed my light, telling myself it was humility, when really… it was fear in disguise.
Fear of being too much.
Fear of losing love.
Fear of standing out.
So I shrank. I blended. I played nicely.
And the truth?
It worked.
I avoided the conflict.
I kept the peace.
But I lost something sacred in the process,
Me.
Until one day, I looked around at the life I had carefully curated to please everyone else…
And realised I barely recognised myself in it.
That day didn’t come with fanfare.
There was no grand declaration.
Just a quiet ache in my bones. A whisper that said:
Enough.
That’s when I started remembering.
I remembered the fire that used to live in me.
The way I used to move through life with clarity and conviction.
I remembered the girl who used to laugh loudly, speak freely, and dream wildly.
The woman I was before I began editing myself for acceptance.
And once I remembered… I couldn’t forget again.
I stopped apologising for my presence.
Stopped explaining myself to people committed to misunderstanding me.
Stopped shrinking to fit into spaces my soul had already outgrown.
I reclaimed my place, not with noise or drama, but with quiet, grounded certainty.
I softened where I used to be hard.
I stood tall where I used to fold.
I became dangerous, not because I harmed anyone, but because I finally healed.
There’s a different energy in me now.
One that doesn’t need permission.
One that walks into a room and doesn’t scan for approval.
One who knows her power isn’t a threat. It’s a birthright.
I’m not striving to become her anymore.
I am her.
Every scar, every lesson, every soft edge and sharp truth.
I wear it all.
I carry it with pride.
So if you’re in that place where you’ve forgotten?
It’s okay, Love.
You’ll remember when it’s time.
And when you do… everything changes.
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