The War Is Over: Ending the Internal Occupation

Metaphorical Narrative

There’s a small house in the middle of a battlefield. Once beautiful. Still standing.

Inside, a child lives. She tiptoes. She whispers. She watches the windows. Outside, two giants are fighting — endlessly.

One wears a uniform, always bleeding, always shouting about duty. The other wears velvet, counts coins, and controls rations.

Neither sees the child. But everything she does feels like a move on their battlefield. So she stays small. Quiet. Careful.

But tonight — something ancient breaks. She opens the door. Steps onto the war-scorched ground. And declares:

“This land is mine now. You may go.”

Core Insight

You were trained to see life through the lens of a battlefield. Where every action risks a consequence. Where your bigness is a threat. Where survival depends on pleasing the powerful or obeying the wounded.

This training carved unworthiness into your bones. Not because you were wrong — but because you were invisible. Not because you were unlovable — but because they were fighting ghosts.

You were not born inside a war. The war was brought to you.

And somewhere along the line, the war became internalized.

– “Too much” might provoke the soldier. – “Not enough” might disappoint the controller. – Being yourself? Too risky.

But that war? It’s not yours. Not anymore.

“That’s a soldier’s code, or a controller’s voice — but I am neither. I’m the child who owns the land now.”

Saturday Experiment

🔒 Claim a space. Literally.

Choose one place in your home where you often shrink — a corner of your bed, a dim kitchen, a desk where your posture collapses.

Turn on a light. Stand tall. Whisper:

“I declare this space mine. I belong here without permission. The war ends here.”

Then do something unjustified by survival. Burn a candle. Dance. Eat like royalty. Let your body relearn what it feels like to exist without danger.

Sunday Reflection (Third Person Prompts)

• Where in their life does the person still act like they’re being watched by a soldier or evaluated by a controller?
• What physical habits (shrinking posture, quiet voice, avoiding attention) reveal an old allegiance to a power dynamic that no longer applies?
• What would it look like for them to move through the world as if they already owned the land they live on?