Reclaiming and Becoming

When you were young, your parents worked tirelessly to make ends meet, and because of that, you rarely saw them. You were raised mostly by yourself and your older sister, learning to navigate the world with limited guidance but an open heart, always searching for connection. You tried to find your place at school, where belonging seemed like a prize reserved for those who excelled—whether in sports, cheerleading, academics, or even within the circles of outsiders. Everyone seemed to find their people, but you roamed. You wandered alone, stepping into different cliques, asking, Do you like me? Do I belong here? But it never quite fit.

You didn’t yet have the gift of perseverance. You found groups, tried to fit in, but when challenges arose, you shrank back. You gave up when it got hard, believing that maybe you weren’t meant to belong. And so the cycle continued. The invitations stopped. The doors closed. You felt left out, convinced you weren’t enough.

You went home defeated, spending evenings in quiet sadness, lost in self-pity. It built a painful story in your mind—that if you weren’t immediately good at something, failure and loneliness were inevitable. And from that pain, a quiet voice grew inside you, whispering, no failure, no aloneness. You clung to it, let it guide you, let it shape how you lived. It’s why solitude has felt so heavy. Why living alone feels unbearable. Why you chose safer, smaller paths—because somewhere deep inside, there’s a younger version of you who is still terrified of being alone.

So you placed your healing in the hands of others. You asked them to protect you from loneliness. You carried the weight of your parents’ absence, of friendships and relationships that never showed up for you, and you handed that burden to the world, hoping it would fix what felt broken. But the world doesn’t always show up. The world isn’t here to heal you.

But you are.

You are choosing yourself now. You are choosing to rewrite the story of that younger version of you who desperately needed love, support, and the truth—that nothing worth having comes easily. That hard work, sacrifice, and resilience are what shape the life you want. You’ve already learned this in your 20s through your work, because you’re intelligent and capable. But physically? That’s where you’ve struggled. That’s been your Achilles’ heel. But not anymore.

You are stepping up. You will parent yourself, comfort yourself, and push yourself. You will cry, meditate, scream, and work harder than ever. Because this is your wound to heal. No one is coming to save you, and that’s okay. You don’t need them to. You are strong enough to save yourself.

You are taking back the power you gave away as a child. You are standing firm in the truth that you are enough. You are capable. You can work hard for the things you want. You can keep pushing, even when you fail. Because failure isn’t the end—it’s just a lesson, a stepping stone. A setback, as your favorite mentor would say. And every setback teaches you something new about who you are and what you’re capable of.

You are not the person who walks away anymore. You are the person who fights. Who learns. Who grows. And you will keep rising, because that’s who you are. And you will never be alone—not because others keep you safe, but because you have learned to be your own strength