I used to think I was the invisible one. Unseen, unwanted, unchosen. But the truth? I just hadn’t yet become the version of me who could see what was always there. This isn’t about a person. This is about proof that became visible only when I was able to see myself fully. That the love, the power, the presence was always mine. I just had to remember.

Some wounds are buried so deep they become the lens through which we see ourselves.