EDITOR’S NOTE: Permission to be Powerful is growing fast. In that spirit, a bunch of writers came together to show their support. I’m immensely grateful. I’ll be sharing a new piece every day for the next 10 days.
Now, let’s get into it…
Dear Permission to be Powerful Reader,
they heard the whispers
hallway echoes coated in shame
saw my silence
mistook it for guilt
and never once asked why
they caught the way my eyes dimmed
but chose not to see
they watched me carry more
than a child ever should
yet blamed me for the weight
they shared the rumors
passed them around like secrets
like warnings
but never like cries for help
and when i broke—
they looked away
when i bled—
they called it drama
when i stayed quiet—
they labeled me weak
but still—
i bloomed
not out of spite
not for them
but for the girl inside me
begging to be loved
to be chosen
to be believed
so i grew
in the cracks they left behind
and i built a garden
from every hurt
they never cared to hold
— Mishelle
 | A guest post by
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Your words carry the ache of what was unseen—but also the undeniable force of your becoming.
You didn't just survive; you transfigured the pain into something sacred.
That final stanza… "I built a garden from every hurt they never cared to hold"—
That’s the anthem of healing.
Thank you, Mishelle, for showing us what true permission to be powerful looks like. 🔥