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Writer | Speaker | Creative Voice. I tell stories, make calls & design confidence. @ Yabatech
She died yesterday 😢
<p>She died yesterday.</p><p><br/></p><p><br/></p><p><br/></p><p>It wasn’t dramatic. There were no sirens, no sudden gasps, no headlines. The world didn’t pause to notice, and I didn’t wake up feeling brand new. I just finally realized I couldn’t keep dragging her ghost into my tomorrow.</p><p><br/></p><p><br/></p><p><br/></p><p>She was the version of me that lived through last year, the one who tried so hard, yet always felt several steps behind.</p><p><br/></p><p><br/></p><p><br/></p><p> She was the one who spent her nights asking the mirror, “Why is this so heavy for me, when everyone else makes it look so light?” </p><p><br/></p><p><br/></p><p><br/></p><p>She wasn’t a failure; she was just a candle that had burned down to the wick, trying to light a room that was far too big for her.</p><p><br/></p><p><br/></p><p><br/></p><p>I’m standing over her now, arms wrapped tight around myself, shaking. It’s a strange thing to be the one who survived. </p><p><br/></p><p>I spent so long hating her for "stalling" my life, but now that she’s lifeless, the room feels terrifyingly empty. Even her sadness had become a familiar armor.</p><p><br/></p><p><br/></p><p><br/></p><p>Last year didn't teach me how to fly; it taught me the cold, quiet taste of disappointment. It taught me that effort can be a lonely, embarrassing thing when there is nothing to show for it.</p><p><br/></p><p><br/></p><p><br/></p><p> I learned that you can believe in yourself with everything you have, and still get bone-weary of the believing.</p><p><br/></p><p><br/></p><p><br/></p><p>She didn’t destroy my life, but she did keep it on pause.... trapped in a loop of "almost" and "not yet." </p><p><br/></p><p><br/></p><p><br/></p><p>So, I am letting her go. Not because she did something wrong, but because she stayed as long as she could. She reached her end so that I could reach my beginning.</p><p><br/></p><p><br/></p><p><br/></p><p>I’m not standing here "fixed." I don’t have a grand manifesto or a perfect map for the future. </p><p><br/></p><p>My hands are still shaking, and I’m still scared of the silence she left behind, but I am choosing to show up today without the crushing guilt of how last year went.</p><p><br/></p><p> I am choosing to look at her... that girl on the floor.... with mercy instead of resentment.</p><p><br/></p><p>Maybe that’s how we actually survive. Not by becoming "better," but by having the courage to leave the parts of us that no longer breathe.</p><p><br/></p><p><br/></p><p><br/></p><p>She died yesterday, and for the first time, I am learning how to stay.🥺</p>
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