Fragments of Cassandra

If becoming yourself required disappointing everyone who loved the old version of you, would you still do it?

Yes.

I spent most of my life becoming whatever version of me was easiest for other people to love.

I learned how to soften my voice, swallow my opinions, abandon my own needs, and call it kindness. I became fluent in keeping the peace, even when the price of that peace was me.

And I am tired.

There is a particular kind of exhaustion that comes from living your entire life as an apology. From constantly asking yourself,

Will they still love me if I do this?

If I say this?

If I choose this?

I don’t ask anymore.

If becoming myself disappoints people who preferred the version of me that was easier to control, easier to understand, easier to keep comfortable—then they are allowed to be disappointed.

Their disappointment is no longer a compass for my life.

I have spent enough years abandoning myself so that other people wouldn’t have to experience the discomfort of watching me change.

Now, I choose what makes me happy. I choose what feels true. I choose the life that actually feels like mine.

Unapologetically.

And if becoming myself costs me the people who only loved who I used to be, then maybe that isn’t the cost of losing them.

Maybe it’s the cost of finally finding me.

Be'ahava,
The Mourning Bird