He Felt Me
He said…
“Talk to me open up,”
like he could hear the quiet
buzzing in my bones.
Not my voice,
but my energy
the part of me most people miss
while they stare at the surface
and call it too much.
He felt the shift
before I spoke it.
He read the room
when the room was me.
And for once,
I wasn’t the one holding space.
He was.
No fear, no flinch,
just presence.
Like he’d been trained
in the language of
women like me
the ones who feel everything
but rarely feel held.
It wasn’t intimidation.
It was reflection.
The same frequency
I’ve offered to broken hearts
and unread eyes
finally mirrored back
with warmth.
And I thought,
maybe this is what it feels like
to be understood
without shrinking.
To be powerful
without apology.
To be loved,
not despite my energy
but because of it.