This is Mine
There comes a moment on the path of becoming when you stop waiting for permission.
A moment when the noise of everyone else's expectations fades beneath the simple, ringing clarity of your own voice.
A moment when you stand with both feet planted in the truth of who you are—and without needing to defend it, explain it, or justify it—you choose it.
You choose you.
Not because it’s easy. Not because it won’t disrupt the constellations of old roles and agreements. Not because everyone will clap politely in approval.
But because it is yours.
This Soul Truth lives in the act of claiming—not with hardness, but with a grounded softness. A quiet sovereignty. The kind of inner knowing that doesn’t shout to be heard. It simply is.
Claiming is not about possession
It's about belonging.
It’s about recognizing what has always been true inside you:
your voice,
your way,
your devotion,
your holy longing.
For so long, many of us were taught to question our desires, to shrink our boundaries, to mold ourselves into what made others most comfortable. Maybe you, too, learned how to apologize for taking up space—how to cushion your truth so it wouldn’t land too heavily.
But there comes a threshold we all eventually face: the place where the cost of abandoning ourselves becomes too high.
And so, with a trembling hand and a sacred breath, we decide.
We say:
This truth is mine.
This dream is mine.
This path—this one right here—is mine.
Claiming isn’t loud
It’s loyal.
It is an inward vow to remain true to what your soul knows, even if no one else sees it yet.
It looks like finishing the book inside you without needing anyone else to validate it.
It looks like saying no to what drains your spirit, even when you can’t fully explain why.
It looks like choosing rest before burnout. Wholeness over approval. Integrity before performance.
Claiming is a reclamation of authorship.
You are the writer of this unfolding
Your story belongs to you—not to your history, not to your conditioning, not to what others believe is possible for you.
You get to edit what no longer serves you.
You get to protect what is still tender and becoming.
You get to hold boundaries around what you value most—not as walls, but as guardians of your sacred interior life.
And here’s what I’ve learned:
The moment we whisper, this is mine, something inside us reorders. We stop outsourcing our wholeness. We return to ourselves with devotion.
We meet our truth with open hands.
We let it shape us.
We let it root us.
And then—we carry it forward, one courageous choice at a time.
A gentle invitation
Take a moment today and ask yourself:
What truth inside me has been waiting to be claimed?
Where have I given someone else the pen to my story?
What am I ready to say yes to—not later, but now?
What boundary will help protect what matters most to me?
What would shift if I trusted my inner voice as my compass?
Write it down. Speak it aloud. Let it echo.
Because your truth is not a burden,
not a disruption,
not too much.
It’s your lineage of becoming.
Own it with tenderness.
Carry it with grace.
And when you are ready—step forward and whisper:
This is mine.
Soul Truth No. 10
This is mine.
This truth lives in the act of claiming—
not with hardness,
but with clarity and softness and sovereignty.
It is:
The moment you choose your truth without apology.
The sacred boundary that keeps your soul intact.
The knowing that no one else gets to narrate your becoming.
It reminds us:
You are the author of your story.
You get to decide what stays and what goes.
You are allowed to own your light, your voice, your path.
This is just one of the Soul Truths that guide The Soulful Journey. There are twelve in all — gentle reminders to steady you wherever you find yourself. If you’d like to meet them, you can find them here:
