Part V · Reclamation
The Unlearning
When I could stand,
I wasn’t afraid.
When I could walk,
I moved with ease.
When I could dance,
I danced unwatched—
whole,
unshaken.
My insecurities
not yet conceived.
Then came friendship,
and I faded—
black sheep,
seeker of approval.
A need
I hadn’t known
began to breed.
When I could choose,
I chose wrong—
mistaking need
for love,
cutting a part of me off.
When I lived alone,
I craved space—
to heal,
to breathe—
but still fell
into arms
not made to hold me.
When I said “enough,”
I still longed
for someone
to echo it back.
And my heart—
still cracked
in familiar places—
ached for before:
Before the ache to be held
outweighed the boy
who once stood
unafraid.