Dominique Maria: There comes a moment when staying hidden starts to feel heavier than being seen when doubt no longer protects you. It just weighs you down. Today, we'll be unearthing that moment when you're terrified, but you show up anyway because it's time.
Hello again. I'm Dominique Maria, and welcome back to the written Willow. I hope you've been enjoying this series so far. Perhaps you've noticed our chronological journey of a flower in bloom, from seed to soil, to the quiet work beneath the surface, and now the first signs of reaching upward, pushing through into the light.
This one's for those of us who've been growing quietly out of sight and now feels something stirring, a readiness, a reclaiming, a gentle but powerful emergence. Today we're talking about something that can feel both exhilarating and terrifying. Emergence. What does it mean to let yourself be seen after doing the personal work for so long, quietly, privately unseen?
In last week's episode, we talked about doing that work in silence, the kind that happens underground beneath the soil, where all is dark, but eventually. Something stirs, something says it's time. So today we're stepping toward that light. As you know, I love to kick things off by sharing a poem with you.
If you follow along on Instagram, then you might already be familiar with this one. It's titled Emerge Rain On Me. Pour on Me. Open Your Doors. It's time. The world knows what you came here for. Stop hiding away in your shadows of doubt, the light looking for you. So come on out.
I just want that to steep for a moment, like a good cup of tea, extracting. All the essence of that. There's a power in you, a calling. You feel it. I know you do because you're still listening. There's a famous proverb, we don't choose the calling. The calling chooses us. Maybe for you it's a pool. A constant whisper, a thought that won't go away.
And if you're anything like me, you might be somewhat of an overthinker though. I'd like to think I'm in my recovery phase thanks to poetry. You might get caught up in the logistics of things telling yourself, I wanna make sure I pick the right path. Don't wanna make the wrong choices and have to start from scratch.
So you think yourself into a whole, always thinking, never doing. Using mental Olympics as your scapegoat. So here you are. You've finally garnered up enough courage to work behind the scenes on what you've been contemplating for what feels like forever, only to find yourself hesitating when it comes time to present it to the world.
It's like rehearsing for a play and never performing it. All that hard work for nothing. It's great to be prepared, but there comes a point when over preparedness. It's just a cover up for stalling. Even singers like Rihanna, Adele, and Beyonce have openly shared how nervous they get before stepping on stage.
They do it anyway, and they wouldn't be household names if they let fear win. Everyone has fear. Just don't let the fear stop you. And if I'm being completely honest, I've done exactly that. I've poured myself into vision boards, outlines, drafts, audio recordings, and still stalled at the finish line. Not because the work wasn't ready, but because I wasn't sure if I was ready because I was afraid I'd be misunderstood or worse that with silence or indifference, but the calling in me would creep back up.
Igniting a fire that said, you have something to say. Let it be heard. Like any fire, if you don't tend it, it will eventually burn out. Don't let your fire die out. In a world ruled by numbers, likes, shares, and algorithms, it's easy to confuse visibility with value, but the heart of your work isn't measured by how loud the applause is.
It's measured by how deeply it moves you first and eventually someone else. I've learned that staying hidden doesn't protect you. It only delays your purpose. Is it all right if I share a personal story with you? When I first started the written Willow a little over a year ago, it was purely poetry and truthfully, I was afraid, afraid of what those closest to me might say or think.
I didn't want their opinions or questions to override my own growing voice, so I created a separate Instagram account, one that no one knew about. I used a different phone number. Didn't import my contacts and I left my name off entirely and stayed completely anonymous. I needed the opportunity to try. I needed space to believe in myself before anyone else could influence that belief.
I entered poetry contests. I quietly won and I was even featured in magazines, and I had no one to tell, no one to share it with, but deep down, I knew I was protecting something precious. Something not yet ready to be exposed to the elements. I waited, not out of fear alone, but out of wisdom until I knew that no one's opinion could shake the foundation I was building inside myself.
I waited until something inside me felt strong enough, ready to come out of the dark and into the light, confident in my abilities, yet scared. Ready yet unsure of where the journey would take me, but I stepped forward anyway. And that's what today's episode is about, answering that stirring within you even when you don't feel fully ready.
So here's what I'd like you to reflect on this week. Where have you been hiding? Not out of wisdom, but out of fear? What are you still rehearsing? That's ready to be revealed. If you didn't need anyone's validation, what would you let emerge? Let yourself write without editing. No judgment, just honesty, because your truth deserves the light, and so I'll leave you with this.
Your calling isn't meant to be perfect. It's meant to be heard. That's the end of today's episode. Thank you truly for resting beneath the willow with me today. If this episode made you feel something or simply gave you a quiet space to breathe, I'd love if you'd subscribe, leave a review, or share it with someone who might need it.
And if you feel called to support this channel, any amount helps. You can find the link to do that in the episode description. Until next time, me, the wisdom of the Willow. Be with you.
