There’s something sacred about a woman who remembers her power.
Not the loud, performative kind.
But the quiet, anchored kind.
The kind that says:
“I don’t have to ask permission to take up space.”
Somewhere along the way, you might have been told to shrink.
To soften your voice.
To be grateful for almost enough.
To wait your turn.
But no more.
You get to begin again—today, right here, without an announcement or apology.
You get to change your mind.
You get to reclaim the parts of yourself you buried to make others comfortable.
You get to stand taller, even if your hands still shake.
You get to say, “This version of me is worth honoring.”
Because the truth is, your power never left.
It just got quiet while you survived.
Now it’s rising again—in your boundaries, in your self-trust, in your softness that doesn’t mean weakness.
You are not too late.
You are not too much.
You are not too far gone.
You are exactly who you need to be, becoming more of her every single day.
Journal Prompt:
“If I stopped waiting for permission, what would I give myself today?”
Let your answer come from your gut, not your fear.
Big or small—trust it. Write it. Feel it.
That’s your truth speaking.
That’s you, returning home.
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