I am a fearsome creature.
You may respond: oh, no, you’re not fearsome! and you will probably think you are reassuring me.
I am fearsome. I’m not unhappy about it. I am heartbroken that you’re afraid of me.
(which makes me turn my eyes away before I have to see it)
You may respond: well, yes, sometimes you’re fearsome, but you’re amazing in other ways! and you will probably think you are reassuring me.
I am fearsome. I’m not ashamed. You value what I bring in my contained smallness despite my inability to always hide my bigness. That is love in part. Thank you for it.
You may respond: but I see how hard you try, you’re getting better! and you will probably think you are reassuring me.
I’m not trying to fix it. All the time and energy I expend mitigating my overwhelmingness is for your benefit. I find it distracting and draining.
I would rather spin my glory with loud voice and unmistakable force than get better at stepping daintily between the lines. I would rather be wind fire magnetic power if I trusted you to handle me, massive me, clumsy me, dark burning me, bright glowing me as I show up when I don’t protect you from me.
You can stand rock-strong amidst my gusts. You can bask lion-lazy in my shine. You can ride hawk-joyful on my roiling currents. I can be rock and lion and hawk for your weather. We can dance with love when we trust each other’s strength. When we trust our own.