THE WOMAN I AM BECOMING

I used to be confident.

I used to be courageous.
I used to walk into rooms with my head high, knowing my worth, knowing my capabilities.

I used to trust my mind.
I used to believe in my skills.
I used to shine.

But piece by piece, fear has stripped me bare.
Piece by piece, doubt has replaced confidence.
Piece by piece, the weight of trauma and cruelty has dimmed the light I once carried.

My self-esteem has cracked.
My belief in myself has faded.
And sometimes, when I look at the mirror, I do not recognize the woman staring back.

She looks tired.
She looks scared.
She looks like she’s fighting just to stay afloat.

When the office door opens unexpectedly, my heart stops, just a little, but enough to feel the shock travel through my body. The fear that someone has walked in because of something I did wrong. Because of a mistake they’ve been waiting for me to make.

I barely sleep these days.
Night after night, I lie awake, staring at my phone.
Waiting.
Worrying.
Expecting an email, a message, a call, anything that confirms the fear that has burrowed into my bones.

And when something goes wrong at work…
When there is an issue,
a delay,
a miscommunication,
a simple human mistake,

The first question is always the same:
“Who made it?”

Not what happened, not why, not how do we fix it…
but who.

That is when you understand:
This is not about the mistake.
It is about the person behind it.
It is about me.
It is about the label they have placed on my name.

It would be easy to crumble.
It would be easy to disappear.
It would be easy to surrender to fear, to let it swallow me the whole way it tried to when I was young.

But I can’t.

Because despite everything, despite my shaking hands, despite my racing heart, despite the sleepless nights, I am still here.

I am not a loser.
I am not someone who gives up easily.
I am not someone who breaks quietly.

I am fighting silent battles no one knows about.
Battles I never wanted.
Battles I never deserved.
Battles I face alone because the world has taught me that vulnerability is dangerous.

But still… I rise.
I show up.
I smile even when it hurts.
I push through even when everything in me wants to collapse.

I know I will come out strong.
I know I will rebuild myself.
I know I will find the girl I used to be or maybe create a stronger woman from the pieces that remain.

But right now…
in this moment…
I do not know how.

And that is the truth beneath the quiet hours.

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