By: Barbara Sheats 

Every morning,
the world wakes
and starts handing out names.

Too loud.
Too quiet.
Too slow.
Too different.
Too much.

As if a person
could be measured
by someone else’s ruler.

But I have learned
that the strongest mountains
never asked permission
to stand.

I have learned
that rivers do not apologize
for carving their own path.

And I have learned
that the sun
never waits for approval
before it rises.

So why should I?

I am not here
to fit inside a box
someone else built.

I am here
to build bridges,
to open doors,
to leave them wider
than I found them.

I have stumbled.

I have doubted.

I have cried over dreams
that seemed too far away.

Yet every setback
became another brick
beneath my feet,
lifting me higher
than fear ever could.

My differences
are not cracks
in my foundation.

They are the windows
that let the light in.

My voice
does not need permission
to be heard.

My story
does not need editing
to be worthy.

And neither does yours.

So walk boldly.

Dream loudly.

Love deeply.

Lead kindly.

Because the world
has enough people
trying to blend into the background.

What it needs
are people willing
to become the sunrise

not because they are perfect,

but because they chose
to rise anyway.