“My Peace is Proof Enough”

There’s a special kind of confidence that doesn’t raise its voice.

It doesn’t bark credentials or race to explain.

It just… is.

It flows.

It breathes.

It aligns.

“My path is mine, and it is divine. My peace is proof enough.”

My peace is not passive, it is powerful.

It’s the knowing smile I wear when someone tries to pressure me into “more.”

It’s the soft no I offer when my soul whispers, not that way.

It’s the spacious yes I give myself when I decide that this life, this moment, is already rich; it is blooming with answered prayers.

Yes, I am a nurse.

Yes, I have walked through the fire of exams, clinicals, and sacrifice.

No, I am not rushing back into the flames just to meet someone else’s version of “more.”

Because guess what?

I am more.

Right here. Right now.

In my scrubs, in my soft mornings, in my grocery runs and journal entries.

In my laughter.

In my healing.

My peace is proof of how far I’ve come.

My alignment is loud enough for the ones who really see me.

And my joy?

That’s the real flex, baby.

So whether I go back to school or I don’t.

I move when the timing is divine, not when the world is anxious.

Because this life I’ve built, this soft, sturdy, radiant life;

I didn’t build it to be rushed.

I built it to be felt.

I know what it’s like to hold space for others.

To chart every symptom, every shift, every subtle sign of healing for someone else.

To catch things before they fall,

To offer care even when you’re running on empty.

But lately, I’ve been catching something else:

My own breath.

My own joy.

My own light.

Because nursing isn’t just what I do, it is who I am, and that includes me too.

So now, I choose to:

• Take breaks like they are doctor’s orders.

• Make fresh juice like it’s a sacred prescription.

• Write love letters to myself between chart notes.

• Trust that rest is productive, and peace is a vital sign.

And you know what?

My patients feel it.

My aura feels it.

My guardian angels are taking notes and smiling and my ancestors are rooting for me with sparkly pom poms and a warm tea in hand.

No degree, no title, no dollar amount can compete with the grounded beauty of a woman who is present.

Present in her calling, her intuition, her pace, her power.

So whether I’m rubbing lavender oil and Shea butter into my skin or flipping through “We Should All Be Millionaires” by the pool.

I am nursing the nurse now.

And that alone… is revolutionary.

Truly and Authentically,

Mika Wells 🌀