When You Forget Who You Are

When you forget who you are,
I hope you hear your name
not in the noise of deadlines or traffic,
not in the hum of generators or group chats left unread —
but in the hush between your heartbeats,
in the quiet moments before the world wakes.

You are not the hustle that wears you thin.
You are not just your bank balance or CV.
You are someone’s answered prayer.
You are strength passed down in silence.
You are becoming — slowly, boldly, still.

Some days, getting out of bed is a full miracle.
Some days, showing up is your loudest yes.

So breathe.
Breathe like someone who knows God still dey.
Like someone whose story is still unfolding —
line by line, step by step, grace by grace.

You don’t need to “blow” to be enough.
Even rest na resistance.
Even slowing down is sacred.

If today all you did was try —
my dear, that is more than enough.

Look in the mirror,
forget what the world expects,
and whisper to yourself:

“Na me be this.
I remember now.
And I’m not done.”

Olasubomi Writes