Fifteen Years Ago, My Biggest Fear Was Being Seen ๐Ÿค๐ŸŽค

I was adopted from a shelter ๐Ÿก, born with albinism ๐Ÿค, and for a long time, being seen felt terrifying.
Eyes felt heavy. Attention felt unsafe.

But I loved to sing ๐ŸŽถ.

My dad, a carpenter ๐Ÿชš, never pushed me onto a stage.
Instead, he built one ๐Ÿชต๐ŸŒฟ โ€” a small wooden platform in our backyard where I learned to stand tall, hold a microphone ๐ŸŽค, and let my voice exist without fear.

Last night, fifteen years later, I stood on a real stage ๐ŸŒŸ.
I won a talent competition ๐Ÿ†.

And just offstage, my dad was crying ๐Ÿ˜ญโค๏ธ.

Sometimes love doesnโ€™t push you forward.
Sometimes it quietly builds a place where you can grow ๐ŸŒฑ โ€”
until one day, you realize youโ€™re ready to step into the light. โœจ