Your Voice Became Mine

Sometimes I wonder how much of my inner voice actually belongs to me.

Growing up, I heard so many warnings, comparisons, criticisms, and harsh words that I slowly learned to question myself before anyone else could. If I made a mistake, I already knew what I would be told. If I wanted to go somewhere, I already imagined the questions. If I wanted to make my own choice, guilt came before confidence.

I started hiding little things—not because I wanted to become dishonest, but because honesty often felt like it would only bring another argument.

The strange part is that parents may forget the words they said years ago, but children can carry them for much longer.

Sometimes, when I look at myself, I don’t see someone who lacks confidence. I see someone who has been taught to doubt herself too many times.

And maybe that’s what hurts the most.

The voice that constantly tells me I’m not good enough doesn’t always sound like mine.

It sounds like yours.