Don’t you just hate it when the life you once dreamed of turns into the very thing that breaks you? The vision you held so tightly, bright, whole, hopeful, ends up leaving scars you never asked for. It bends you, bruises you, molds you into someone you barely recognize. Someone you can’t quite make peace with.
The chaos doesn’t scream; it smolders. Quietly, relentlessly, until the insides of who you were turn to ash. Until the soul feels hollow.
I often find myself wishing it had turned out differently. That the battles I fought didn’t have to leave me scarred. That the person I used to be didn’t have to die in the process. But I also know this: who I became was born out of necessity. She emerged in the middle of survival, grasping for ground, fighting for air.
The thing about change is, it is never sudden. It creeps in quietly, almost invisible at first, a habit here, a compromise there. And before you realize it, you have shed an entire version of yourself. The mirror reflects someone else entirely.
Anger has carved out its own little corner inside me. It waits, patient and sharp, ready to rise with every word left unspoken, every need left unmet.
And yet, all of this has forced me inward. To pause. To reflect.
Because pain reshapes you in unimaginable ways. It strips you down. It makes you weaker, less resilient, slower to rise after every fall. And the worst part is you do not even notice the unraveling until you are knee-deep in it. Until the tiredness becomes permanent, until the exhaustion sits with you like an unwanted shadow.
She Was Sea 