Story Teller

  I spent years waiting. Waiting to be chosen by friends. Waiting to be chosen for opportunities. Waiting to be chosen in love. I was always sitting in the waiting room of my own life, hoping someone would open the door and say "We pick you." So I made myself smaller to be more likable. I worked harder to be more noticeable. I waited quietly, hoping my patience would be rewarded. But no one came. Not because I wasn't worthy, but because I was waiting for permission to live my own life. Then one day, I got tired. Tired of waiting. Tired of checking my phone. Tired of wondering why I wasn't chosen. And I asked myself a question that changed everything: What if I choose myself? That day, I stopped waiting. I stopped waiting to be invited and I created my own table. I stopped waiting to be validated and I started validating myself. I stopped waiting for someone to tell me I was enough, and I started acting like I already was. When you stop waiting to be chosen, something ...

For a long time, I was scared of being alone. Not because I didn't like my own company, but because I thought being alone meant I was unlovable. I thought if I was alone, it meant something was wrong with me. So I kept people around even when they hurt me. I stayed in conversations that drained me. I said yes when I wanted to say no. All because I was scared of that quiet moment when it would just be me. But life taught me how to be alone, not by choice, but by necessity. People left. Plans failed. And there I was, alone. At first, it felt like punishment. The house was too quiet. The nights were too long. I kept reaching for my phone, hoping someone would fill the silence. Then one morning, I made myself a cup of tea and sat with myself. No phone. No music. Just me and my tea. And for the first time, being alone did not feel lonely. It felt peaceful. That was the day I learned the difference. Loneliness is feeling like you need someone else to complete you. Being alone is realizin...

  Everyone talks about healing like it's loud. Like you have to announce it, post about it, prove that you are getting better. But my healing happened in silence. It happened on days when no one checked on me. On nights when I cried and no one knew. In the small moments when I chose to keep going even though no one was clapping for me. For a long time, I thought healing required an audience. I thought I needed someone to validate my pain, to say "I see you, you are hurting." I waited for someone to save me. To notice that I was not okay. No one came. At first, that broke me even more. I felt invisible. Forgotten. Then, something shifted. I realized that waiting for someone to witness my pain was keeping me stuck in it. I was giving away my power, hoping someone else would give me permission to heal. So I started healing in silence. I started with small things. Drinking water. Making my bed. Opening the curtains. I stopped explaining myself to people who were committed to ...