What I Carry: Memory, Meaning, and Me...
For me, the most important thing to carry isn’t something you can pack in a bag or slip in your pocket, it’s your memories, and just as vital, your sense of who you are.
Memories are more than just mental snapshots; they are the raw material of identity. They remind me of where I’ve been, the good, the bad, the absurd, and the beautiful. They hold the quiet lessons I wasn’t ready to learn at the time, and the loud ones that shook me awake. They carry the voices of people I’ve loved, lost, forgiven, or left behind. And they keep the version of myself I fought to become anchored in something real.
But memory without self-awareness is just a scrapbook. Knowing yourself, truly knowing yourself, is what gives those memories shape and meaning. It’s the compass when everything else around you is chaos. It’s what helps you stand firm when the world tries to define you, rebrand you, or break you.
Knowing yourself means understanding your values, your triggers, your worth. It’s the difference between reacting and responding. Between getting lost in someone else’s storm and staying rooted in your own calm. It lets you choose your path, rather than drift down someone else’s.
So, if I had to choose one thing to carry at all times, it would be the quiet, grounded knowledge of who I am, stitched together by memory, scar tissue, soul, and stubborn grace.
Because when you know yourself, you can walk into any room, face any moment, and carry your truth like armor, invisible, but unshakeable.
Mae 🧡
UNDER THE WILL... OVER THE DRAMA... 
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