Finally me

Events have stripped me bare.
Everything that once seemed important vanished like smoke,
and what I was — what I had forgotten — resurfaced.
With my flaws, with my strengths.
Finally me.

Without filters, without shelters,
without excuses or regrets.
Fragile, defenseless, human.
Finally me.

This is the self I must face,
the awareness with which I must now make choices.
Ready to face life without hiding anymore.

The masks have fallen.
This is my true face.
There is no need to perform anymore.

There are experiences that barely shift you,
and others that transform you forever.
Existential experiences.
They leave you alone. With yourself.
And in that solitude, you begin to see yourself.

I don’t know if it was the pain,
or time carving through the body and then the soul.
Perhaps both.

Feeling naked is unsettling.
There are no more handholds,
no one to save you from your own truth.

And let me tell you something:
I am afraid.
Afraid of not being enough, of not making it.
I’ve always been afraid.
I hid it, dressed it up as strength.
But now it knocks.
And I don’t run away.

Yes, it worries me.
But I believe I am ready.
I have nothing left to prove.
I have lived.
Not everything, not perfectly.
But intensely.
And that is my only weapon.
And it is enough.

And now, let’s admit it.
Nothing will ever be the same again.
And maybe, that is exactly my strength.