I choose me

I used to think love meant giving,

Even when it left me bare.

To shrink so others could shine,

To stay silent, to always care.

I wore smiles like fragile armor,

Held my breath to keep the peace,

Poured out all my light for others

Left myself with none to keep.

But I grew tired of being empty,

Of chasing worth in someone’s eyes.

Of breaking just to feel needed,

Of mistaking pain for sacrifice.

So now, I choose me—gently,

In every quiet, sacred way.

With soft hands and a kinder voice,

I show up for me each day.

I choose the girl who’s healing,

Whose scars still sometimes sting.

I choose the one who’s learning

She never needed fixing.

I choose rest without guilt,

Boundaries without fear.

I choose to fill my own cup first

To keep myself near.

I’m not too much. I never was.

I’m not too loud or small.

I’m just enough. I always have been.

Even when I dropped the ball.

So here I stand, no longer waiting

To be chosen, seen, or heard—

I choose me with open arms,

With every breath, with every word.

And in that choice, I finally see:

The love I searched for lives in me.