Your presence is a prayer.
Not because you’ve never been broken,
but because you kept choosing light when it was easier to fold.
Because you walk in rooms and shift the energy
not with volume,
but with vibration.

You don’t have to perform to be holy.
You don’t have to be loud to be heard.
Your softness? Is sacred.
Your stillness? Is strength.
Your story? Is survival, alchemy, and arrival, all in one breath.

If you ever feel like you don’t matter…
Know this:
The God in you is already speaking just by you being here.

✨Your presence is a prayer.
And someone will feel God clearer the moment you walk in.

Some days I wish I could go back.
Not for a do-over — just to hold certain moments a little tighter…
To feel how soft life used to be.
To appreciate what I didn’t realize I could lose.

I’ve lost a lot.
Not just things — but versions of myself.
Stability. Confidence. Dreams I didn’t think would be interrupted.
And if I’m honest, I carry regret for the time I didn’t fully live.
For the “I’ll do it later” moments that never circled back around.
For the times I stayed quiet, hidden, or too insecure to move.

But here I am…
And that means something.

Despite it all — the grief, the shame, the mess — I’m still standing.
I still get to choose.
I still get to rebuild, even if it looks nothing like before.

So today, I’m grateful.
Not in a pretty, Instagram-perfect way. But in a real, worn-out but still willing kind of way.

I’m grateful for the lessons in the loss.
For the resilience I didn’t know I had.
For the clarity that came from watching time slip through my fingers.
And most of all — I’m grateful for this moment…
Because this is still time I can use.

If you’re reading this and you’ve ever felt behind… you’re not.
You’re just becoming.
And it’s not too late.