E S H A 

Ten Months Later.

The lights are blinding, but I don’t flinch. I never do.

I step onto the runway and it’s like something clicks into place inside me- like my body knows what to do before I even ask it to. The noise fades, the chaos dissolves, and for a few minutes, it’s just me, the spotlight, and the sound of my heels hitting the floor.

This- this is peace. Odd, maybe. But when I’m walking like this, under the gaze of hundreds, wearing a piece of art and carrying it like it was made for me… I still feel like I belong. Like I’ve built something of my own.

The nerves, the weight of being a mother, a wife, a woman trying to balance it all none of that touches me here. This is mine. A place where I’m not defined by anything else but the rhythm of my steps and the strength in my spine.