Member-only story
I Miss The Girl I Used To Be
Before I met you, I was fearless in my own way.
I dreamed big and chased those dreams with wild determination.
I danced through life, unbothered by what others thought of me.
My laughter was louder, my steps lighter, and my heart, oh, it felt free.
But now? Now I tread carefully, doubting every move.
The weight of pleasing you, of meeting expectations, has turned my carefree confidence into quiet hesitation.
I miss the girl I used to be.
She didn’t second-guess herself as much.
She stood tall, not looking for validation but carrying her own.
I lost her somewhere between the compromises I made and the parts of myself I gave away.
Losing yourself doesn’t happen all at once.
It’s slow, like sand slipping through your fingers.
It happens when you prioritise others over your own needs, when you silence your voice to avoid confrontation, and when you trade your joy for someone else’s comfort.
But here’s the truth: I don’t want to keep missing her. I want to find her again.
