I am done begging.
For eyes to see me.
For hands to hold me.
For hearts too full of holes to make room for mine.
I am done twisting myself into shapes
that shrink my spirit
just to fit inside someone else’s comfort zone.
I am no longer the girl
who over-pours
just to prove she’s worthy of being filled.
I will not chase half-loves,
text back ghosts,
or tie myself to the storm
and call it home.
Let this be known:
I am ready for secure love—
steady, whole, unshaken.
A love that doesn’t flinch at my depth.
That welcomes my truth.
That honors my body not in spite of its marks,
but because of the stories they tell.
I will not barter my worth
for attention disguised as affection.
I will not mistake pain for passion.
I will not beg to be chosen.
I choose me.
Every version. Every scar. Every sacred curve.
I choose the safety I was denied.
The softness I never had.
The love I used to plead for.
No more auditions.
No more shrinking.
No more begging.
I am the love I’ve been waiting for.
And from this moment forward,
I only open my heart to those who know how to hold it.