My light was too true to be tolerated.

Dedicated to my ex-husband.

Rising strong.

He said I was too intense.

Too emotional.

Too fragile.

Too much.

But that wasn’t the truth.

I was too clear.

I was not broken.

I was illuminated.

And he didn’t know what to do with that.

When someone lives in performance,

truth feels threatening.

When someone survives through control,

freedom feels dangerous.

When someone never met their own soul,

yours feels foreign.

He didn’t see my light

because he never entered his own darkness.

I was not asking for worship.

Only to be seen.

But some people look at The Star

and squint.

Or turn away.

Or try to cover it.

Because it reminds them

of how far they are from their own rising.

So I forgive him.

Not because he was right.

But because I choose to keep shining.

And because this time,

I want to be seen

by someone whose eyes

are wide open.