There’s a version of me I no longer recognize.
She was soft—still is—but in a way that didn’t serve her.
She tolerated too much, mistook peacekeeping for love, and thought staying silent was the same as being strong.
But she outgrew all of that.
I outgrew all of that.
I used to let things slide—not because they didn’t bother me, but because I didn’t believe I deserved better. I made excuses for people who were careless with my heart. I swallowed my truths, bit my tongue, and carried the weight of everyone else’s emotions like it was my own. I convinced myself that holding it all together, even while crumbling inside, made me strong.
But surviving isn’t the same as living.
Now? I move differently.
I see clearly. I feel deeply. But I’ve learned to stop betraying myself for the comfort of others. My heart is not a dumping ground for anyone’s unhealed mess. My love is not a lifeline for those unwilling to swim. My energy is no longer up for grabs.
This version of me is rooted. Grounded. Unapologetically self-aware. I’ve grown into someone who knows her worth, not just in theory, but in practice. I don’t chase closure, validation, or anyone who makes me question my value. I’ve built boundaries with brick and soul. I don’t explain my peace, my silence, or my distance. If something costs me my well-being, it’s too expensive.
And no, I didn’t lose my softness—I learned how to protect it. I still lead with love, but now it includes me, too. That’s not ego. That’s self-respect. That’s healing.
And it’s powerful as hell.
So I’ll keep moving like I know my worth—because I do.
And if you’re reading this and it speaks to you, maybe you do too.
You’re allowed to outgrow people, places, patterns, and even past versions of yourself.
That’s not betrayal. That’s becoming.
🫶🫰𝓙𝓡𝓣
🎨 Art Credit: Raven Shaolin Bluefeather
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