Home Within

There was a time I thought love was something I had to earn.

I searched for it in people, in praise, in quiet validations. I bent myself to fit what others needed. I softened my edges, stayed silent when I wanted to speak, became whatever the moment demanded, just to feel seen. It was exhausting. It was lonely. It was all I knew.

Eventually, I realized I had been handing out pieces of myself, hoping someone else would give them back whole. They didn't. They couldn't. That was never their responsibility.

No one teaches us how to love ourselves. More often, the world teaches us to compete for it. To prove we are useful enough, attractive enough, likable enough, whatever-enough to be chosen.

But real self-love isn't loud. It isn't flashy.

It is steady. It waits in the quiet.

It asks you to come home.

There was a moment, not long ago, when I stopped trying to fix myself. I stopped apologizing for being too much or not enough. I stopped waiting for someone else to decide I was worthy.

And that's when I finally met myself.

That's where Home Within was born. From the shift. From the moment I decided I wasn't going to outsource my worth anymore. It was a decision. A turning point. A vow to myself. Not to be perfect. Just to be present. Just to be real.

Because here's the truth:

You have to have your own back.

You have to find your own fire.

You have to be your number one fan, especially when no one else is clapping.

The world will mirror what you believe about yourself. So believe you are powerful. Believe you are worthy. And when you forget—because we all do—read this. Let it bring you back.

You are not a project.

You are not broken.

You are a poem.

And the home you have been searching for has been waiting for you all along.