I’m standing here,
on the edge of something —
new, maybe terrifying,
but it hums with possibility.
Like the first inhale
before you speak a truth
you’ve held in your chest for years.

This is my truth:
I’m tired of shrinking.
Of holding myself in,
of living in the shadows of fear
or what-ifs
or whatever they wanted me to be.

I want more than this.
More than surviving.
I want connection,
to take what I’ve carried —
the hurt, the heavy,
the questions that never got answered —
and shape them into something
that matters.

It feels messy.
I don’t have the map,
just a need
to move, to do,
to take this voice
and make it mean something.

Trying to figure it out.
Even in the stumbling
there’s power.
Even in the fear,
there’s a kind of hope,
a soft voice saying,
This is what you’re meant for.

So I step forward.
Maybe I trip.
Maybe I fly.
But I am no longer staying still.
Not anymore.

Vivv