There was once a man who carried a glowing lantern inside him.
Not a bonfire. Not a spotlight. Just a quiet, steady light.
It pulsed with everything he’d lived, learned, and come to know, but rarely shared 🥹
He wasn’t hiding it 'cause it lacked value.
He was hiding it because every time he tried to show it, his body rebelled.
The moment he stood in front of others, even in a small room, or among friends...
his throat tightened.
Breath shortened.
And mind scattered like birds startled off a wire.
He’d trained for this.
👉Joined speaking groups.
👉Practiced on Zoom.
👉Read the books.
👉Watched the TED talks.
And yet still... when it was time to be seen, the fear returned.
Familiar. Heavy. Ancient.
He thought maybe something was wrong with him.
Maybe some people just aren’t meant to “share their voice.”
But deep down, he knew that wasn’t true.
Because, you know what?
The light inside him DIDN'T fade.
It longed to be seen.