Tu falas muito da mulher que ainda não és.
You talk a lot about the woman you're not yet.
The one who's going to be stronger, clearer, more beautiful, more financially free, more anything. You work toward her. You read books to get there. You go to sessions to get there.
But what you don't say. and maybe don't even know. is that you're afraid of her.
The forbidden version
The whole woman you could be doesn't fit in a lot of the spaces you fit into today. She doesn't fit in the relationship. She doesn't fit in the office. She doesn't fit in the Sunday family conversation.
If you become that woman, things will have to change that you're not ready to change yet. People will leave. Others will stay but will find you strange. And you, who learned very early that being loved depends on not making waves, feel like you can't afford to take that risk.
So you delay yourself. You tell the world you're in training, in process, working on it. And it's true. But it's also a way of postponing the arrival.
What she asks of you
That woman isn't asking you to destroy your current life. She's asking something much simpler: that you stop pretending she doesn't exist.
That you let her introduce herself. In front of the mirror, first. Then, maybe, in a notebook. Then, maybe, in a conversation where you hear yourself saying something no one has ever heard you say before.
The great revelation isn't becoming something else. It's stopping the pretence that you already aren't.