In the quiet aftermath of betrayal,
When the dust of humiliation settles on your skin,
There lies a question, burning like embers:
What are you worth?

The universe speaks in whispers most cannot hear—
Betrayal is not your ending, but your invitation.
Those who diminish you are not your judges,
They are merely signposts pointing to a greater path.

The Alchemy of Rejection

There is alchemy in being undervalued,
A sacred transformation waiting to be understood:
Every slight carries the seeds of your ascension,
Every rejection clears the path to your true destination.

When they offer you crumbs from their table,
They reveal not your value, but their limitations.
Their small offerings speak of small visions—
While the universe conspires to seat you at a banquet.

Beyond the Battle for Scraps

Watch how we exhaust ourselves,
Fighting over remnants and leftovers,
Clawing desperately at what falls from tables,
Too distracted to see the feast being prepared in our name.

The scraps—those meager compensations,
Those hollow words and empty promises,
Those relationships that take but never nourish—
They are tests of your self-knowledge, not your worth.

The Divine Accounting

The divine keeps different accounts than humans do.
It measures worth not in what you receive,
But in what you’re capable of receiving.
Not in who values you, but in how you value yourself.

When you stand at the crossroads of acceptance and worth,
Remember: your value was set by forces greater than opinion.
It was written in stardust before your first breath,
Unchangeable by any human calculation.

The Awakening

This is the moment of awakening—
When you realize you’ve been invited to a feast
While fighting for fallen crumbs.
When you understand that your hunger for scraps
Was only because you forgot the banquet prepared in your name.

The manipulators and the deceivers,
The small-hearted and the fear-driven—
They are not your enemies but your teachers,
Showing you, through contrast, what you are not meant to accept.

The Royal Inheritance

There is royal blood in your veins,
Not by birth perhaps, but by divine appointment.
Your worth was decided before time began,
It cannot be diminished by temporary rejections.

So let them have their scraps and their crumbs.
Let them fight over what little they believe exists.
You have been called to prepare for abundance,
To ready yourself for the table where you truly belong.

The Liberation

This is your liberation:
To walk away from battles too small for your spirit,
To release the need for validation from those who cannot see you,
To stop measuring your ocean against their puddles.

When you know what you’re worth,
You no longer negotiate for less.
You no longer waste precious life-force
On those who offer joker cards while kings await you.

The Promise

The banquet exists. It has always existed.
Set for those who recognize their true value,
Who refuse to be defined by others’ limitations,
Who have the courage to leave the scraps behind.

This is your inheritance and your destiny—
Not because you are perfect,
But because you are exactly who you were created to be.
And that creation does not beg for crumbs.

It feasts at tables prepared by the divine.