Breaking through the bondages of our collective and individual shame.

Beneath all masks and marrow, let us draw near to those of us tangled in chains no eye can trace. In the quiet ache of isolated suffering, let our souls reach for one another with trembling grace. Where shame has carved its name into our skin, let it be the very place where transformation begins. Make our pain a shared language, spoken not with fear but with the fierce tenderness of truth. Teach us not to hide our wounds, but to cradle them as offerings of understanding and connection. Let our stories, once burdened by silence, rise like incense—perfect in their imperfection. Remind us that our worth was never meant to be earned, never meant to be borne alone. We carry the inherent image of wholeness —limitless in beauty, dignity, and the right to be loved. And when we forget, as we so often do, let mercy echo louder than our doubt.