I was taught to disappear,
To hide my voice, to mask my fear.
I was told I was far too much,
Then punished for my voice and my touch.
I was abandoned when I broke the role,
And slowly lost the pieces of my soul.
I kept asking what would make me belong,
How to be better, how to be strong.
I searched for pieces I thought I lacked,
Tried to fix myself, to cover each crack.
I tried to make the picture whole,
While losing sight of my own soul.
I know what it means to be the last choice,
To swallow my truth, to silence my voice.
I know how to smile while hurting inside,
To shrink myself small, to bury my pride.
I know what it means to carry the blame,
To wear the wounds and conceal the shame.
To stand in the shadows, unseen, unheard,
And question my worth with every word.
For it is rarely one blow that breaks,
One cruel word, one heart that betrays.
It is the weight of a thousand small things,
The slow loss of hope that each wound brings.
Until one day, when you reach the floor,
You find the strength to hurt no more.
You choose to rise, to break the chain,
To stop repeating the inherited pain.
You choose yourself, though fear remains,
You walk through grief, through loss, through pain.
Healing is messy, and grief takes its toll,
But every hard step brings you back to your soul.
Choosing yourself may cost you tears,
May ask you to face your deepest fears.
But freedom begins when you dare to see
That you were never meant to earn the right to be.
And somewhere along this winding way,
The truth grows louder than what they say.
You no longer beg the world to approve,
You know your worth, and you hold your truth.
You were never broken, never too much,
Never unworthy of love and touch.
You were enough before the world said so,
Enough before you had room to grow.
You spent a lifetime seeking a sign,
A reason to believe that your worth was divine.
But the voice you were waiting so long to hear
Was always your own, waiting to draw near.
You were always enough, right from the start.
You just had to believe it with all your heart.
I was told I was far too much,
Then punished for my voice and my touch.
I was abandoned when I broke the role,
And slowly lost the pieces of my soul.
I kept asking what would make me belong,
How to be better, how to be strong.
I searched for pieces I thought I lacked,
Tried to fix myself, to cover each crack.
I tried to make the picture whole,
While losing sight of my own soul.
I know what it means to be the last choice,
To swallow my truth, to silence my voice.
I know how to smile while hurting inside,
To shrink myself small, to bury my pride.
I know what it means to carry the blame,
To wear the wounds and conceal the shame.
To stand in the shadows, unseen, unheard,
And question my worth with every word.
For it is rarely one blow that breaks,
One cruel word, one heart that betrays.
It is the weight of a thousand small things,
The slow loss of hope that each wound brings.
Until one day, when you reach the floor,
You find the strength to hurt no more.
You choose to rise, to break the chain,
To stop repeating the inherited pain.
You choose yourself, though fear remains,
You walk through grief, through loss, through pain.
Healing is messy, and grief takes its toll,
But every hard step brings you back to your soul.
Choosing yourself may cost you tears,
May ask you to face your deepest fears.
But freedom begins when you dare to see
That you were never meant to earn the right to be.
And somewhere along this winding way,
The truth grows louder than what they say.
You no longer beg the world to approve,
You know your worth, and you hold your truth.
You were never broken, never too much,
Never unworthy of love and touch.
You were enough before the world said so,
Enough before you had room to grow.
You spent a lifetime seeking a sign,
A reason to believe that your worth was divine.
But the voice you were waiting so long to hear
Was always your own, waiting to draw near.
You were always enough, right from the start.
You just had to believe it with all your heart.
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