EL2: I Am Allowed to Take Up Space

“Every time I shrank myself to fit,

I taught the world I wasn’t real.

Not anymore.”

—

I learned early how to fold myself.

To speak gently.

To apologize before I even knew what for.

To smile through dismissal.

To shrink in rooms that didn’t have space for my truth.

The Matrix rewards smallness in the name of politeness.

It tells you:

don’t be too much.
Don’t be too loud.
Don’t be too real.

Especially if you’re not already in power.

—

So I edited myself.

Softened my edge.

Took up less physical space, less emotional space, less spiritual space—

until there was barely anything left to hold.

And I mistook that emptiness for humility.

—

But integration required a different posture.

Not defensiveness. Not domination.

But presence.

It began with a quiet rebellion:

Standing tall even when I wasn’t sure I deserved to.

Saying what I actually meant.

Taking deep breaths in rooms that felt hostile to breath.

Letting my body be as it is.

Letting my truth take shape in the air.

Letting the discomfort come—and staying anyway.

—

Taking up space is not a threat.

It is a birthright.

It is how you say: I belong here.

Even when the system says otherwise.

It is how you teach your body that it doesn’t have to disappear to be safe.

—

And now, when I walk into a room,

I do not scan for how to fit.

I scan for where I can root.

Where I can stand.

Where I can shine

without dimming anyone else.

I am not a disturbance.

I am the evidence that something real is returning.