The girl I Used To Be
I have always been a quiet girl. Not shy, not scared—just someone who preferred to listen, to watch, and to understand before speaking. I noticed things others overlooked. I remembered details no one thought mattered. I cared deeply, silently, for everyone around me: family, friends, anyone who needed a shoulder or an ear.
I trusted people easily. I said “yes” when asked for help, even if it wasn’t convenient, because their happiness mattered to me. I didn’t ask for rewards, recognition, or thanks. Caring and loving freely felt like the only choice I knew.
But even in my silence, my mind was alive. I escaped into my thoughts and dreams, creating worlds where everything felt possible. I imagined lives bigger than my own, filled with hope, adventure, and love. I was someone who dreamed endlessly, quietly holding onto the possibility that life could be as magical as I imagined.
I was the girl who could be anyone’s friend, anyone’s confidante, anyone’s safe space. And yet, behind the kindness and quiet trust, I was learning to hold onto myself, to my own thoughts, my own dreams, my own heart.
This is who I was. This is where my story begins.
