It wasn’t even 8:30 on a Sunday night, and I was already in bed. Not out of exhaustion, but out of intention.

I was listening—to my body, to my breath, to the stillness whispering beneath the noise. My body told me it wasn’t hungry, even though I hadn’t hit my protein goal. My head throbbed gently at my temples, echoing a message I hadn’t been ready to hear: slow down, soften, be still.

For years, I didn’t know how to listen. But now, I’m learning. And listening is what saved me.

The More I Learn, the Less I Know

That day I listened to a podcast where a woman shared something that stopped me in my tracks:

“The more I learned, the less I knew.”

And it hit me hard—because lately, I’ve been devouring books, podcasts, wisdom, anything I can to become who I’m meant to be. But something deep inside whispered: You already are her.

Every time I seek, I find—but not what I expected. Not more answers. Just more truth.

More peace.

More trust in my inner knowing.

Seeing the Unseen

I recently had a conversation with the kindred spirit in my life, about energy. He said he tries to see auras around people, but never can. I told them I don’t look for auras with my eyes—I feel them.

When I meet someone, I don’t need to see colors glowing around their head. I feel if their presence is light or heavy. Warm or cold. Safe or guarded. I read energy like poetry—intuitively, wordlessly. And I think so many people are missing what’s right in front of them because they’re looking with their eyes instead of their spirit.

Real connection? Real wisdom?

You don’t see it.

You feel it.

A Mirror, A Moment, A Miracle

That night, before my shower, I stood in front of the mirror.

Not to fix anything.

But to witness myself.

I did something I had never done before—I looked for my flaws… with love.

I saw my uneven hairline.

My crooked smile.

My not-so-white teeth.

And I loved them.

I smiled until a vein popped in the center of my forehead—and I loved that too.

I saw the extra weight around my belly, the acne healing on my back, the scarred memories and stretch marks on my thighs.

And I loved them.

I loved them all.

Not in a way that tried to change them.

Not in spite of them.

But because of them.

Every bump, every pore, every imperfection—they are mine.

They make up this body I live in.

They tell the story of my becoming.

I Am the Artist. I Am the Canvas.

I touched the little chin hair that grows in randomly—soft, imperfect, and mine.

I looked at the wart on my finger that has been there since childhood and I used to hide in photos.

The lazy eye I used to wish away.

My uneven hooded eyelids.

My natural roots peeking in through my dark dyed hair.

The pores, the ears, the things I used to want to fix.

Now?

I see beauty.

I see strength.

I see me.

My body is not broken.

It is not something to mold into someone else’s standard.

It is a sacred vessel—handpicked, divinely formed—for this journey, this mission, this life.

And I will no longer play small.

I Will Be Big in a World That Teaches You to Shrink

I’m done dulling myself to fit into places I’ve outgrown.

I want to be expansive. Radiant.

I want to build a life with people who are also expanding, growing, challenging, healing.

People who aren’t afraid to walk through pain to find peace.

People who meet me at the deep end, not the shallow one.

Because I’ve realized—you can’t push people into their healing.

You can only live yours so loudly that it invites them to look inward.

Not by pressure.

But by presence.

When I Meet Him, I’ll Already Be Whole

As I looked at every part of me I once wished away, I had another thought…

One day, someone will love this body—these features, these scars, these once-insecurities—with the same reverence I do now.

And that person? He’ll meet me not to complete me, but because we’re already whole.

And we’ll build something rooted in truth.

Because when you love yourself fully, you stop settling for fragments.

This Was the Night Everything Changed

Not because I did anything radical.

But because I didn’t.

I didn’t fix. I didn’t hustle. I didn’t criticize.

I just stood there.

Still. Present. Open.

And I saw myself.

And maybe for the first time ever, I didn’t flinch.

I smiled.

And I said:

I love you.

Every part of you.

Just as you are.

💭Quote to Close:

“I am not becoming. I am remembering.”

— Casandra

✏️Journal Reflection Prompt:

Stand in front of a mirror for 5 minutes today.

No filters. No fixing.

Look at the features you’ve judged before—and say, “I love you.”

Write down what emotions surface. Where do they come from?

Which parts of yourself are you ready to reclaim?

🦋 Soul Challenge:

For the next 3 days, every time you pass a mirror, pick one thing to admire about yourself.

Speak it out loud.

You are the artist.

You are the masterpiece.

And you’re worth celebrating.

Always,

Casandra