Truth

 I’ve realised that I don’t need substances to feel alive.

I can laugh until my stomach hurts, dance without losing myself,

and sit in joy without needing to escape my own mind.

I’ve never wanted those things, not because I’m afraid,

but because I know there is more to life than numbing it.

What fulfils me is watching someone choose themselves.

Helping someone put down what was slowly harming them

and reminding them that they are worth more than a temporary high.

There is a quiet pride in that —

a kind of happiness that doesn’t shout, but stays.

I’ve learned that not everyone wants to grow.

Some people fear the sight of you walking towards the library,

towards your future,

because it reminds them of the places they’ve refused to go.

They questioned my ambition, tried to make small what felt sacred to me,

and for a while, I wondered if I should dim myself to stay.

But I won’t.

I am not here to be controlled, or paused, or pulled backwards.

I am here to become.

To choose discipline over distraction.

Truth over performance.

Depth over noise.

I am learning to walk forward

without waiting for permission,

to better myself quietly,

and to stop mistaking loneliness for failure.

Some people are meant to sit beside you for a season.

Others are meant to be changed by you — and then left behind.

And that is not something to grieve.

That is something to honour.