I love it when a woman snaps out of idolizing a man and realizes that it was her magic that made him look like magic in her eyes.
She stops shrinking herself, stops explaining away red flags, stops calling bare effort romance.
The silence afterward hurts, because clarity often arrives carrying grief, anger, and overdue self respect.
She remembers nights she dimmed her light just to keep his ego warm.
Healing begins when she reclaims that magic, and chooses herself without apology.
That choice changes everything.
Including the men she attracts next.
Power recognizes power, always, when illusions finally fall.
🦋A
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