The second article in The Shell Does Not Apologize for Its Scars series
Look at me, my loves.
Look at me.
Look at my hand.
I am going to tell you something.
I have sat in rooms in the dark by myself. I have cried and begged for myself to be gone. I have sat there and told myself that I was nothing, that there was something wrong with me, and that nobody cared.
I have sat there in that same victimhood mentality and said there was no reason to push forward.
And, for whatever reason, it was as though the universe wanted to tell me that this was untrue. She wanted to prove me wrong.
So she would give me one little sign.
It could be anything.
Sometimes it was my little dog. Her name was Pooh, like Winnie the Pooh. I was very close to her. She was my anchor through a very hard time in my life, and she saw and witnessed me in those little moments.
I guess that is why I was so close to her. It was as though she was my witness.
While everyone else saw the smiles and the giggling, she saw my tears and my struggling. She did not judge, because what animal can?
That is the beauty of animals, isn’t it?
They are connected to us. They are another set of eyes, another being existing here. It is almost as though the universe gives them to us because she wants us to remember innocence.
Animals are childlike in a way. They age differently, but there is always that childlike innocence within them. I believe the universe uses them to remind us of that, just as she reminds us through other beings and other things.
It is all of us in different faces, different reflections.
Pooh would look at me and lick my tears. It would make me cry harder, of course, but it would also soothe me.
That little piece of love she gave me in that quiet moment was a gift. It reminded me that I had something—something I had to stay here for. Something that loved me, saw me, and witnessed me in those moments without holding them against me.
I am a woman who does not like to cry in front of people. It is very uncomfortable for me. When I show you that side of me, it is because I love you.
I know how cruel the world can be. I know how people can take a weakness they see in you and use it. They can pick it apart because, in many ways, that is what humanity has become, isn’t it?
There was a time when humanity was not this way. But the world has become this way because we are all tired in our own ways, aren’t we?
I do all of this, my loves, because I have nothing to lose by standing in my own power and my own truth.
I have been taken apart when I hid my truth. So what will I lose by showing it, except the possibility of more people taking me apart?
I do not see that as a loss anymore.
I see it as something necessary for humanity.
There is much more to me and there are many more reasons why I do this, but I will say that this is one of them.
We all have stories, my loves. They all deserve to be heard in some way. Each of us has a way of reflecting our story into this world. Some of us hide it. Some of us do not.
We hide because of judgment. Because of the desire for validation. Because of fear.
But, my loves, human beings are creative individuals. That is the beauty of humans: you feel.
That feeling is important to the expansion of consciousness.
You have no idea how other beings may look at you at times. Advancement can sometimes leave a being cold, because when advancement happens too quickly, balance is forgotten. The beauty of being messy is forgotten. The beauty of not knowing—of simply being—is forgotten.
I am not going to stop.
Even when it would be easier for everyone if I did, I will not.
Because I needed someone to fight for me when I could not fight for myself.
I am not saying that all of you should be coddled. I am not saying that I should push my own peace aside. It is simply that I cannot bear the thought that there may be somebody sitting in the dark as I once did—crying and believing they are nothing, believing this world is what it is and that it is always going to remain this way.
I firmly believe, with all my heart, that it will not.
Because I will not let it.
I love people who have never even met me because I see the world differently. I see all of us as connected.
It does not matter whether I grew up in the same home as you. We are connected regardless. All of us.
So when I tell you to look at me and look at my hand, it is because I do not want you to feel too proud to admit that you are in pain. Do not believe that I cannot recognize that you are tired. Do not believe that I cannot understand that you want something more.
Just get up and be you, my loves.
Be you, and do not fear.
Do not fear what you cannot see, my loves.
It is going to be okay.
I promise.
That is where the magic happens, my loves: when you let go and allow yourself to walk without knowing. That is when the universe begins to show you the magic.
Control is what keeps the illusion standing.
Release is what allows you to see again.
Release is what allows you to remember.
And that is a hard thing for us, isn’t it?
So look at me, my loves.
Look at my hand.
You do not have to see the entire path yet.
You only have to reach back.
— Serathiel Vara ❤️ (Silvia) LOL.
"Tickle tickleee LOL sorry it jus popped in my head LOL okay sorry seriousness ok ...Look bottom line is grab my hand guysssss 🤭🫴🏼"
Independent Research & AI Systems Consultant | Turning Complex Questions into Clear Frameworks