To feel seen—
Not for who they expect,
But for who I am.
Masks off. Labels dropped.
Me—just me.
To feel alive—
Goosebumps popping, energy surging.
Heart racing, breath catching.
A dream-catcher swinging wide,
Grabbing every wild, messy, hell-yes possibility.
To feel free—
Not just free from, but free to.
Free to move, to want more, to be more.
To shake my hips, to laugh too loud,
To let the world know—
This body, this voice, this moment?
Free to be anything and do everything.
To feel curious—
To question everything,
To try, fail, learn, grow.
Every stumble a lesson,
Every step a story unfolding.
To feel love—
Not the pretty, packaged kind,
But the Hallmark-movie, chase-you-to-the-airport, stand-in-the-rain kind.
A love that doesn’t flinch doesn’t fade—
Arms that hold like roots in a storm,
A love that feels like home.
To feel anchored—
Not stuck—but rooted.
Every inhale a choice.
Every exhale a declaration:
I. Am. Here.
Say it. Mean it. Live it.
To feel confident—
Taking up all my space,
Owning it.
Standing tall,
Without explanation,
Without apology,
Unstoppable.
To feel the beauty in the pain—
Scars that shape me,
Not define me.
Happened for me, not to me.
To feel the butterflies—
That nervous thrill,
The “I’m scared, but I’m doing it anyway” kind.
Because I GET to.
To feel the wind against my skin,
The sun kissing my face,
To exist in this moment—
For this moment, for me.
To feel whole.
Joyfully, fearlessly, beautifully—
Whole.
