Unseen Wounds

What if it’s not backward?

What if it only feels backward because people are watching?

I keep asking myself that.

Because if nobody could see my decision…

If nobody could judge it…

If nobody could whisper about it…

Would I still be afraid to go?

Or would I just go?

Maybe the fear isn’t about the move.

Maybe it’s about the image.

We work so hard to look strong.

To look like we’re progressing.

To look like we’re winning.

So when God whispers “go” and it doesn’t look like promotion — it looks like surrender — everything inside of us resists.

Because surrender feels like shrinking.

But what if shrinking is sacred?

What if going back isn’t regression, but realignment?

There’s a version of me that wants applause.

There’s a version of me that wants peace.

And they are not the same woman.

I don’t want to make decisions based on pride.

I don’t want to stay somewhere just because it looks like growth.

Sometimes the bravest thing a woman can do is choose obedience over appearance.

And maybe that’s where I am.

Not lost.

Not weak.

Just standing between fear and faith.

Trying to choose who I really am becoming.