You belong in your own life

Some of us move through our days like guests. Careful. Grateful for scraps. Ready to leave if we take up too much air. That’s a lonely way to live in a house with your name on it.

You belong in your own life. In the photo. In the plan. In the quiet evening by the water. You don’t need a better reason than being the one who is breathing here.

Belonging isn’t a prize for being easy. It’s a fact you can practice: I will eat. I will rest. I will speak. I will let the last light touch me without apologizing for the space I take.

If someone taught you that love is a corner you shrink into, you can unlearn it slowly. Start with one room. Yours.