There are times when the journey does not simply feel steep; it feels endless. Each step carries the weight of unseen burdens, and the soul grows tired from carrying what was never meant to be carried alone. In such moments, hope does not vanish loudly; it fades in silence. Faith feels distant, and even prayer seems to echo back unanswered.
When this happens, do not rush forward.
Pause.
Turn inward.
Return to the self that existed before pain taught you how to shrink. The self that once trusted life without needing proof. That earlier self still lives within you; quiet now, perhaps bruised by loss and disappointment, but never destroyed. Waiting. Remembering.
Life has pressed hard. It has asked you to endure more than you expected. It has shaped you through longing, separation, and unanswered questions. Yet suffering is not proof of failure, it is often the doorway through which wisdom enters.
In that stillness, another memory rises gently.
Remember your mother’s voice, the songs sung before the world felt harsh. The warmth that held you before you learned to guard your heart. Those teachings were not small; they were sacred transmissions. They planted roots deep enough to survive storms.
Never forget who you are.
Never forget how to fly, butterfly.
Never forget where you come from.
You carry a rich lineage, an ancient culture etched into your spirit. Even when the world pressures you to soften your edges or become someone easier to understand, resist. There is no need to abandon your essence to belong.
Be you.
The path of becoming is not gentle. It asks for surrender, patience, and trust in the unseen. At times, you may feel cracked open, uncertain, or lost, but this is not the end. This is a transformation. Just as the butterfly does not escape the cocoon without struggle, your unfolding requires endurance.
The cocoon is dark, and the struggle is real. Like the butterfly, you cannot skip the pressure and still learn how to fly. Transformation always feels like loss before it feels like freedom.
So walk forward gently, not with force, but with remembrance.
Let suffering refine you, not erase you.
Let faith return slowly, like dawn after a long night.
Let suffering soften you, not silence you.
One day, someone will see you, not as a type, not as a color, not as a version, but as a whole human being.
You are not broken.
You are becoming.
You were never rejected by life.
You were protected from forgetting who you are.