When you notice yourself apologizing for being in the room.
You catch your voice shrinking before it even arrives.
This is not where we begin.
This is where we stop.
Let's start with the body,
Slowly.
Feel the soles of your feet meeting the ground,
Not gripping,
Just resting there.
Feel your spine not pushing forward,
Not pulling back,
Just here vertical present.
Let your shoulders release away from your ears and let your hands rest wherever they are.
Let one breath arrive and let it leave.
Again,
Breathe in without rushing it and let it go.
One more in.
You Your presence in a room is not a favor you are asking for.
Your breath in a conversation is not something to earn.
You are allowed to be the one who speaks first.
You are allowed to be the one who stays.
You are allowed to be the one who takes the time she needs.
Notice if some part of you is still trying to fold inward.
You don't have to correct it.
Just notice it.
And let it be seen.
Let this be the permission you give yourself,
Quietly,
Without announcements.
I am allowed to take up space.
I do not need to make myself smaller for others to be comfortable.
My presence here does not require justification.
I am allowed to be heard.
Once more,
Gently.
I am allowed to take up space.
I do not need to make myself smaller.
My presence here does not require justification.
I am allowed to be heard.
Let the floor hold you.
Let the air around you be yours.
This space is yours.
You do not have to shrink.