Power used to mean control. Keeping everything together. Managing every detail. Always being three steps ahead. Power was the ability to handle everything without flinching, to stay in charge, to stay composed, to never need help. Because needing help felt like weakness. Letting go felt unsafe.
But healing changes the definition of power.
Real power now looks different. It’s not gripping so tightly anymore. It’s not the clenched jaw, the sleepless nights, or the endless doing. It’s not saying “I’ve got this” when deep down, you’re crumbling.
Now, power feels like permission.
Permission to let yourself soften. Permission to not have all the answers. Permission to cry, to rest, to lean, to exhale. Permission to trust something or someone else to hold what you’ve been holding alone for too long.
Because when you finally start to feel safe again—safe in your body, safe in your home, safe in your relationships—power stops being about control. It becomes about choice. The choice to release. The choice to stop performing. The choice to just be.
That’s what true power is now. Not proving strength through struggle, but reclaiming softness without fear. It’s looking around and realising, “I don’t have to carry it all alone anymore. And I never should have had to.”
Power is choosing peace over perfection. It’s letting go, and knowing you’re still held.