He said, “Maybe you should tone it down a little,” and he really believed he was being kind. He probably even thought he was doing me a favor by offering that little nugget of wisdom.
He had no idea what would actually happen if I took his advice.
If I toned it down, even a little, the whole world would see the mess underneath. The sparkle is not decoration. It is survival. It is the thing that keeps people from noticing how chaotic it gets inside my head. No one needs front row seats to that.
The truth is simple. The louder, brighter, funnier version of me is not fake. It is the version that keeps me moving. It is the version that keeps me from sinking. It is the version that lets me walk through the world without handing everyone a map to the parts of me that are still healing.
Because yes, there are dark corners. There are old wounds. There are nights when my brain feels like it is trying to fold in on itself. But that is not the whole story, and it is not the part I owe to anyone.
People see the sparkle and assume it is extra. They do not realize it is the shield. They do not realize it is the thing that keeps me from collapsing under the weight of everything I have lived through. They do not realize that if I ever stopped shining, even for a moment, the cracks would show in ways I am not ready to let anyone witness.
So no, I will not tone it down. I will not shrink myself to make someone else more comfortable. I will not dim the parts of me that keep me standing.
The sparkle stays. It has to.
And if someone cannot handle that, they can look away.
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