How many times have I shrunk to fit,
Dimmed my light, made my fire unlit?
Softened my power, silenced my grace,
Just to make others feel safe in their space?
I made myself small so they could stand tall,
Blended in, invisible, nothing at all.
Yet I was born to rise, to shine, to be seen,
Not to fade like a forgotten dream.
But when you hide, your light grows dim,
Like a candle flickering in the wind.
And when you’re ready to reclaim your flame,
You start from ashes, not the same.
I regret the moments I stepped aside,
Believed the lie, let my soul subside.
I once stood boldly, fierce and free,
But shrank because they feared me.
Never again.
We each have a purpose, a light to reveal,
A gift to share, a wound to heal.
And when we don’t—when you don’t, too—
The world loses a piece of you.
I now embrace my radiant might,
No more shadows—I am the light.
And when I stand in all I am,
I give others the strength to stand.
By Jean Marshall - The Artful Woman
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