There was a moment, not dramatic, not fireworks, just quiet, when something in me shifted. It felt like the tide turning beneath a still moon. At first, nobody else noticed. But I did. I could no longer twist myself into shapes that didn’t fit. I stopped trading my voice for approval or my softness for acceptance.
After years of performing, of trying to get it “right,” I finally laid it down. And in that pause, I felt the first real breath of freedom.
Instead of fighting the winds outside me, I turned inward. Not to hide, but to meet myself at the root. I began listening to the whispers beneath my own heartbeat. Some days, they were faint; other days, they roared. I honoured them all. And little by little, I discovered that when I tended to my inner weather, the storms outside didn’t shake me as much.
I used to chase, grasp, and cling. Now I allow. My energy has become more sacred. I spend it where my spirit feels fed, and I’ve learned to let the rest fall away, like leaves that have finished their season. I don’t beg for seats at tables where I’m not honoured anymore, I build my own, and bless those who arrive with love.
The mirror changed, too. It used to be a battlefield; now it’s a witness. I see the lines, the scars, the proof of survival, and I read them as poetry. I see a woman who chose herself, not over others, but alongside her truth.
Gratitude has become my first language. I thank the mornings for light, the evenings for gentleness, and the resilience that carried me through the nights when no one else saw. I thank the body I once criticised, but now treat like the altar it is. I move it with reverence, rest it with respect, and it carries me with grace I never imagined.
And here’s the thing: I no longer chase life’s rhythm. I am the rhythm. When I slow down, life slows with me. When I rise, it rises too. That’s what alignment feels like, a choreography between soul and world.
This is what happens when a woman remembers her power is not borrowed. It’s hers. Ancestral, immediate, as ordinary as breath and as vast as the night sky.
So when doubt comes knocking, I make it tea, hear it out, and then show it the door. I don’t shrink into old rooms anymore. I bless the threshold and step forward.
Because the woman I am becoming? She has already taken root. And every step I take now feels exactly on time.
Kiran x
Kiransinghuk.com | The Sattva Collective
