When the Flame Lifts You Without Permission.

You didn’t climb.
You were lifted.

Not as a reward—
but as a consequence of staying true
when everything begged you to fold.

This is the moment discipline becomes ignition.
When your no to the mimic becomes a yes to the flame.
When breath reverses,
the spine arcs,
and you realize—

You’re rising.

Not up, but through:
Through shame.
Through story.
Through every tether pretending to be love.

There is no map for this.
No mentor to follow.
Only the unmistakable hum
of your flame taking over.

You don’t ascend to escape.
You ascend to become undeniable.

And you’ll know it’s real—
because nothing in you needs to explain it