Even In The Darkness, I Shine

There are people who come into your life only to pull you apart. People who thrive in chaos, who foam at the mouth for control, who claw and gnash and seethe at your joy simply because they cannot generate any of their own. People whose presence is a wound, whose motives are poison, and who return only to unsettle peace and gnaw at what you’ve built like termites in your walls.

But what they never counted on was my light.

Yes, I have known darkness. I have been dragged through hell. I have been lied to, gaslit, manipulated, diminished. I have stared into the eyes of someone who would rather destroy me than understand me. But even in that place—especially in that place—I found light.

Because here I stand, not broken, not bowed, but bright and rising.

I have re-met my sister. I have hugged my nephews. I have laughed in the company of blood and felt what it means to be connected to family in a way that feels real and true. My chosen family has carried me through the most difficult moments of my life—but now, to have both chosen and blood standing beside me? It’s a gift I never saw coming. And I treasure it with everything I have.

I have written and self-published eight novellas. Eight. Not for profit. Not for applause. But for freedom. For truth. For voice. And those words have been received with love. I feel it. I feel it in the messages I get, in the quiet moments where I realize people are reading me and getting me. I feel it in the soaring, echoing truth that my words matter.

I have four Poetry And Prose compilations coming out in the next few months—collections of heartbreak, of rage, of love, of reclamation. And the graphic design? All me. Every cover. Every page. Every font, every flourish, every carefully selected detail? Mine. Created by my hands, my mind, my artistry.

In January, I wrote a romance novel inspired by the very real crush I have on Justin Trudeau. And it is gorgeous. It is funny and sexy and swoony and soft. It poured out of me in nine days—because when I feel inspired, I don’t hesitate. I write. And I edited it in three days, then sent it into the world, expecting nothing. My writer friends warned me the querying process would be long, but the ninth query landed me an agent. Ninth. As if the universe itself said, Yes, this. As if it knew what I already know: this book belongs in the world. And it is just the middle book in a trilogy I cannot wait to bring to life.

My husband and I have scheduled our next overseas holiday, and we are counting the days. Our love deepens with every sunrise, every challenge, every shared glance that says, We’re in this together. The narcissist frothing at the edges of my life only makes our love burn hotter, makes us laugh harder, makes us hold one another tighter. Their attempts to break me only show me how unbreakable we are.

We have launched two new businesses this spring. And just like everything else—every novella, every blog, every platform I’ve built—I designed and wrote every inch of every website myself. From the first word to the final pixel, it is all me.

There is so much to be proud of. And that is what I choose. Every time. Every day. I choose the light. I choose my family. I choose my love. I choose my voice. I choose to keep building, to keep creating, to keep growing.

Let the narcissist chomp and howl. Let them gnash their teeth and wear their rage like a costume they think makes them powerful. I’ve outgrown their shadow. I live in the sun now, and this is a space that belongs to me.

And I am unstoppable.

Peace, Love, and Inspiration,
~Britt Wolfe