Sometimes I forget who I am

I forget who I am

Sometimes I forget that I am the little girl who raised her fist in protest to the dictator’s face while military guards pointed their guns at her.

Sometimes I forget I am the girl who stood up and dared to ask for more every time she was beaten.

Sometimes I forget I am the woman who has survived the deepest betrayals, the loudest heartbreaks and still picked herself up off the floor, wiped her eyes and showed up.

Sometimes I forget I am the woman who held her grandfather’s hand as he breathed his last breath.

Sometimes I forget I am the woman who didn’t know “anything” and had no ” connections” and still managed to win that poetry award, get published in that magazine, or won #1 French speaker in the country three years in a row.

Sometimes I forget I am the woman who managed to build a multiple six figure business with no special contacts, trust fund or previous knowledge of what it was to build a business.

Sometimes I forget that I am brilliant, beautiful, special, intelligent, creative and I know my shit.

Sometimes I forget and I play small. Allow myself to think I don’t know anything. Believe I have nothing to offer. Fear I will never be loved. Wonder if I am good enough.

And then I take a deep breath. I feel the air swirling in my lungs and I remember. I remember the power that I am. That I came from the same molecules in stars. That I am a child of the water and the sun. That I am the creator of all of my worlds.

And I feel the Universe whispering in my ear, sending pieces of me back to myself in incantations from all the places they have been scattered.

And I remember that the only thing that matters is how I feel about myself. And that being seen doesn’t matter.

No one defines you but you.
Don’t forget who you are.


Tell me in the comments below, who are you?



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