To Thine Known Self Be True
A Prayer of Return
Spirit, I’m not here to pretend. I’m not here to perform. I’m here because I’m remembering who the fuck I am. I feel the weight of all the versions of myself I’ve had to be just to stay alive. Just to keep moving. Just to be accepted, or tolerated, or left alone. I’ve bent myself in ways I didn’t even realize until my body started screaming for me to stop. And now I’m listening.
I’m not trying to become someone new. I’m peeling back the noise. I’m dropping the expectations. I’m returning to the me that always knew. The version of me that existed before shame, before fear, before trauma tried to convince me I had to earn my worth. I don’t owe anyone a diluted version of myself. I don’t owe smallness to anyone who’s afraid of my light. I don’t owe silence when my truth is loud and ready to be heard.
This is the part where I take my power back, not as a performance, but as a reclamation. Every part of me that’s been scattered—through heartbreak, confusion, betrayal, sacrifice—I call it back. I call it home. I’m not judging the parts of me that were scared or stuck or lost. I’m loving her. I’m holding her. I’m integrating her into the woman I am now.
I am not here to live someone else’s blueprint. I am not here to mimic safety. I am here to feel. I am here to move through the fire and come out soaked in my own truth. I am here to walk in alignment, not perfection. I’m allowed to make mistakes. I’m allowed to change my mind. I’m allowed to need rest, love, intimacy, and space—all at the same time.
I trust my instincts. I trust my body. I trust my no and my yes. I trust that I can handle whatever shows up and still come home to myself at the end of the day. I trust the parts of me that no one sees, because I see them now.
To thine known self be true means I don’t abandon myself anymore. Not to keep the peace. Not to avoid judgment. Not to be chosen. I choose me. I choose the me who feels deeply, who sees the world in layers, who wants love that feels like magic and truth that stings before it soothes. I choose the me that’s tired of pretending she doesn’t need care, tired of holding everything in, tired of delaying her own joy to keep things afloat for everyone else.
I’m done begging for space in rooms that shrink me. I’m done over-explaining. I’m done contorting. I’m done apologizing for evolving. If you see me now, you’re seeing the version I worked hard to find again. She’s not leaving. She’s not hiding. She’s rising, and she’s choosing truth over comfort, every single time.
So Spirit, please guide my steps. Keep me aligned. Keep my discernment sharp and my heart soft. Let my boundaries be firm without guilt. Let my love be deep without fear. Let my creativity overflow without shame. Let my joy be wild without explanation.
This is my prayer. This is my return. This is the moment I stop running and return home to me. I am her. She never left me and I never left her.
Thank you, Spirit. Asé.