The Garden That Grew

I wasn’t watered. Not when I needed it most. The sun played favorites, the rain passed me by, and the hands that should have pulled weeds planted doubts instead. They said I was too much, too quiet, too strange. So I shrunk. Made myself small enough to fit their version of love. Even the soil turned against me — dry, cracked, unfamiliar. But still, something in me refused to stay buried. A whisper of green, a root that knew its name. I learned to grow in silence. To reach for light through concrete. I bloomed in the shadows, taught myself softness in a world that only offered stone. I was never supposed to survive, let alone blossom. But the garden grew anyway. And I was the garden.

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Author’s Note:

I wrote this for anyone who grew up neglected, dismissed, or told they were too much — and somehow still found a way to live, to heal, to become. This piece is rooted in my own experience with abuse and emotional abandonment. I’ve been through seasons where I didn’t think I’d make it, but I did. Because somehow… the garden grew anyway.

And if you’re reading this — maybe yours is growing too. Written for the “Quote Me Baby” challenge hosted by L.C. Schäfer on Vocal, inspired by the quote: “Life finds a way.”