“Finally Me” by Trie Michaud

Finally…
Growing up, glowing up —
not just in years,
but in soul,
in spirit,
in the quiet places where truth takes hold.

Finally,
I feel like the person
I was always meant to be —
no masks, no mirrors,
just me,
soft and strong,
wild and free.

But here I am…
holding this treasure of becoming,
this light I’ve fought for,
nurtured,
bled for —
with no hand to hold it with me.

It’s a strange kind of joy,
when your soul sings —
but there’s no one in the room to hear it echo.
No shared laughter over coffee,
no sleepy kisses at night,
no voice that says,
“I see you — and I’m not going anywhere.”

Still…
I know.
I know my person’s out there.
The one whose energy hums like mine,
whose heart speaks the same secret language.
They’re on their way —
not late, just aligning.

Because I wasn’t made to walk this earth alone.
Not forever.
Not like this.
There’s a difference between solitude and longing.

And love?
Real, rooted, reciprocal love?
That’s still part of my story.
It’s just on the next page.