Hey you, little me back in the day, stop waiting for permission. If I could go back and tell you anything, it would be this.
You already are what you dream about being. Still, you wait for somebody to tell you so or else it’s just not real.
All the times you paint something that doesn’t win a ribbon, you are an artist.
All the times you sing and don’t get picked, you are a singer.
All the times you write and hear only nos, you are a writer.
All the times you speak and nobody listens, you still have something to say.
All the times you stand transparent, you are real. You are important.
Little me, there is no one more qualified than you to decide what you are.
So, stop waiting. Claim your title.
You’re everything you dream about being.