Chapter 17: Power

Rhythm. It flows through you, every day, every minute, every moment.

But some people don't know their rhythm.

And spend all their lives searching for it, not realizing that their rhythm is someone else's rhythm too.

My mom was someone who spent her whole life, making sure I found my rhythm. When she died, she died hoping that I would.

I let her down.

I became a follower instead of a leader. Following every comment my brain has been saying for a long time, doubting myself because of what the voice inside says.

Me, as stubborn as I am, trusted that the voice inside is the one who knows the real you. It helps you, guides you, understands you.

Maybe it does.

Or maybe it knows us so well, that it becomes our biggest enemy. I hoped not to let my enemy defeat me, no matter how strongly they came as, I would always be stronger.

My mom taught me that.

She was strong, she was powerful.

She inhaled power as if it was oxygen or cocaine.