Some days the fire burns brightly.

You remember who you are.
You remember what matters.
You remember that there is more to you than the things that have happened to you.

Other days the flame is barely visible.

Hidden beneath exhaustion.
Buried beneath grief.
Protected beneath years of simply trying to survive.

Do not mistake a quiet ember for an extinguished fire.

There is wisdom in survival.

There is strength in resting.

There is courage in staying present when every part of you wants to run.

Healing does not always look like progress.

Sometimes it looks like pausing.
Sometimes it looks like breathing.
Sometimes it looks like choosing kindness toward yourself when shame asks for something else.

The ember remains.

Waiting.

Not for perfection.
Not for strength.
Not for certainty.

Only for enough safety to burn again.

And when it does, you will discover what was true all along:

The fire never left.

It was simply waiting for you to believe in its warmth again.