I Am Not Broken, I Am Rebuilding.
I’ve carried so much things I didn’t deserve, things you put on me, things I was too young to understand but too hurt to forget. You were supposed to be my safe place, but too often, you became the one who wounded me most.
You humiliated me, spoke badly of me, and painted me in cruel colors to people who were supposed to love me. You handed others weapons and watched as they used them on me. That hurt deeply. And it still does.
I loved you. And sometimes, I still do. That’s the hardest part. My heart wanted your approval, your protection, your love, even when your actions said I didn’t deserve them. But I did. I do.
I gave you a burial that honored your life, not because you earned it but because I choose to walk in dignity, not bitterness. That was my way of closing a chapter. But I won’t carry your story over my own anymore.
I forgive what I can. I grieve what I must. I release what no longer belongs to me.
This is where I begin to reclaim my name, my voice, and my wholeness.
Me
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