@savethis4later_: There’s a strange kind of grief that comes with outgrowing a version of yourself. Missing who you were… while knowing you can’t go back. While knowing you shouldn’t go back. She loved hard. She stayed too long. She thought endurance was the same as strength. I carry her with me, but I don’t build my life around her anymore. I’m learning that peace is allowed. That softness doesn’t require self-abandonment. That taking up space doesn’t make you difficult. If you’re in that in-between, not who you were, not fully who you’re becoming. You’re not behind. You’re changing.