For the you who saw worth only in the reflection of others’ eyes,

a fractured mirror reflecting back distorted expectations,

a performance played for an audience that never applauded,

a constant striving for a love that felt conditional, a love withdrawn

Finding yourself stranded on the barren shore of self-doubt.

I remember the whispers, the incessant, gnawing doubts

that burrowed beneath your skin,

insidious tendrils of insecurity choking the nascent blooms of hope.

Not good enough, they hissed, a chorus of condemnation,

Not worthy of love, of kindness, of belonging.

You are a burden, a nuisance.

The venom of self-hatred,

corroded your spirit, 

etching deep fissures in your self-esteem.

You saw flaws where others saw strength,

deficiencies where others saw potential,

a landscape of imperfections magnified under the harsh glare of self-criticism.

You were a prisoner in the fortress of your own mind,

the warden, the judge, the jury, and the executioner,

all rolled into one merciless entity.

You believed, with a chilling certainty, everyone you loved would leave,

affection was a fleeting mirage, a cruel trick of the light,

destined to vanish, leaving you abandoned in the aftermath.

You built walls of self-protection, brick by painful brick,

mortared with fear and reinforced with the conviction that vulnerability was weakness,

an invitation to abandonment, a guarantee of heartbreak.

The frantic scrambling to hold on to love, the desperate pleas,

the constant vigilance, anticipating the inevitable departure,

the exhaustion of fighting for a place in the hearts of those who seemed

determined to push you away.

The crushing realization that the battle was always one-sided,

you were the only soldier on the battlefield,

wielding a broken sword against an army of indifference.

The bitter truth that no one seemed willing to fight for you,

champion your cause, declare your worth,

stand in the breach and defend your right to exist,

to say, “You are enough. You matter. You are loved.”

The agonizing question that echoed in the silence of your soul:

Why am I not worth fighting for?

The crushing weight of feeling disposable, insignificant,

a transient presence in the lives of others, easily replaced, readily forgotten.

The sting of being used, manipulated, exploited,

a tool to be wielded, a vessel to be emptied,

discarded once the desired outcome was achieved.

The hollow echo of empty promises, the charade of affection,

the cold realization that you were nothing more than a means to an end,

a stepping stone on someone else’s path to happiness,

your own well-being sacrificed at the altar of their self-interest.

The theft of childhood, innocence shattered,

trust betrayed by the very hands that should have nurtured and protected.

The world turned upside down, boundaries blurred,

the safe haven transformed into a battleground,

where love was a weapon and vulnerability a fatal flaw.

Your father, the architect of so much pain,

the source of so much fear,

the sculptor of your deepest insecurities.

His actions, words, very presence,

a constant reminder of your perceived inadequacy,

a relentless assault on your self-esteem,

leaving you fractured, struggling to piece yourself back together.

The silence imposed, voice suppressed,

the truth buried deep beneath layers of shame and guilt.

Being invisible, unheard, unseen,

haunting the edges of your own life.

The anger simmering beneath the surface,

a volcano waiting to erupt,

a righteous rage that threatened to consume you.

But you survived. You endured. You persevered.

Against all odds, against all expectations,

you clawed your way out of the darkness,

emerging scarred but also stronger, more resilient,

more determined than ever to reclaim your voice,

to reclaim your life.

The silence ends now. Your voice will be heard.

The truth will be spoken, loud and clear,

unapologetically, unequivocally.

Boundaries will be drawn, lines will be defined,

The walls will be rebuilt, but this time, they will protect, not imprison.

Stand up for yourself, for the girl you were,

for the woman you are becoming,

for anyone who has ever been silenced, abused, or marginalized.

Be the advocate, the defender, the champion,

the voice for the voiceless, the light in the darkness,

the safe haven for those who have nowhere else to turn.

Be the person you prayed for when you were a child,

the protector, the comforter, the unwavering source of love and support.

You will heal your own wounds by helping others heal theirs,

transforming your pain into purpose, your suffering into strength.

You are enough. You are worthy. You are loved.

Not because of what you do, but because of who you are.

You are a survivor, a warrior, a beacon of hope.

You are the author of your own story now,

and the ending will be one of triumph, of healing, of liberation.

This is your promise, your declaration, your unwavering truth.

You are, were, and always will be enough.