How I Hold Myself Now

I don’t flinch at my reflection anymore.

I meet my own eyes like someone worth staying for.

I speak softer to myself now,

not because I’ve forgotten how the world once spoke to me,

but because I remember too well.

I rest without guilt.

I cry without shame.

I laugh without asking permission.

I no longer punish myself for the wounds they gave me.

Some days, healing still feels heavy,

but I lift it with both hands, and I carry it gently;

the way I always needed to be carried.

I no longer shrink just to make others comfortable.

I no longer chase what cannot hold me.

I do not beg to be chosen,

I choose me, over and over, without hesitation.

This is how I hold myself now:

with tenderness,

with truth,

with the full weight of my story and the arms to carry it well.