The Person I Forgot to Take Care Of

Somewhere between trying to make everyone happy, meeting expectations, and pretending that everything was fine, I forgot about the one person who needed my attention the most: myself.It didn’t happen overnight. It happened slowly, in little ways that I barely noticed. I started saying “It’s okay” when something hurt me. I smiled when I wanted to cry. I accepted apologies for things that continued to happen, convincing myself that people make mistakes and that love means understanding. Whenever someone needed me, I tried my best to be there. But whenever I needed someone, I somehow convinced myself that I could manage alone.I became so good at understanding other people’s feelings that I stopped questioning my own.

The strangest part was that nobody noticed. After all, how could they? I had mastered the art of appearing normal. I laughed at jokes, participated in conversations, completed my responsibilities, and went about my day as if there weren’t a hundred thoughts fighting for attention inside my head.Sometimes, even I forgot that I wasn’t doing as well as I pretended.

There were nights when the smallest things made me emotional. An unanswered message, a change in someone’s tone, or a memory I thought I had moved past could suddenly makeeverything feel heavier. I would question myself, wondering whether I was too sensitive, too demanding, or simply difficult to love.I kept looking for reassurance from people who couldn’t always give it to me. I waited for someone to notice my silence, understand my mood, and recognise the effort behind my smiles. I wanted someone to ask, “Are you really okay?” and stay long enough to hear the answer.Eventually, I realised something uncomfortable. I had been waiting for other people to give me permission to prioritise myself.

So, I started making small changes. I stopped forcing conversations that felt one-sided. I allowed myself to rest without feeling guilty. I began accepting that not everyone would understand me, and that I didn’t need to explain every decision to earn their approval.Most importantly, I started learning that saying no didn’t make me selfish, and walking away from situations that repeatedly hurt me didn’t make me a bad person.Of course, I still have difficult days. I still overthink, care too much sometimes, and occasionally wish that certain people could see things from my perspective. Healing isn’t a magical transformation where you suddenly become unaffected by everything. Sometimes, 

it simply means recognising an old pattern and choosing not to repeat it.I’m learning that I can love people without abandoning myself. I can forgive someone without giving them unlimited access to me. I can miss someone and still understand why distance is necessary.

Perhaps growing up is partly about realising that you cannot control how others treat you, but you can decide how you treat yourself.And after spending so much time trying to be 

enough for everyone else, I think it’s finally time to become someone I feel safe being.This time, I don’t want to lose myself just to make someone else stay.