Who I Was Before I Chose Myself

Who I Was Before I Chose Myself 

Softness is a Power Move

I remember a version of myself

who didn’t ask for much.

Not because I didn’t need more,

but because I believed needing more

made me difficult to love.

I stayed longer than I should have.

I softened when I should have spoken up,

& called it patience.

I called it understanding.

Really, I was abandoning myself in quiet, invisible ways.

Softness didn’t come naturally to me.

Survival taught me to harden in the very place that makes me feel most alive

(my heart).

There came a moment when I couldn’t ignore my feelings anymore.

Not a loud, dramatic moment,

but a quiet knowing that settled

deep in my body.

I became aware of how much of myself I had been pouring into people who felt comfortable receiving me, but never felt called to pour back into me.

For the first time,

I didn’t try to explain it away.

I didn’t rationalize it.

I didn’t compartmentalize my emotions.

I surrendered to the truth.

There came a turning point when choosing myself stopped feeling selfish

 & started feeling necessary.

When I understood,

deep in my soul,

that my softness was never the issue.

My softness was where I was pouring into.

So I asked myself…

what would it feel like to give that same care,

that same patience,

that same love…

back to me?

Choosing myself didn’t happen overnight.

It wasn’t a single decision.

It was a series of small, quiet choices I had to keep making every day.

Choosing myself looked like

listening to my body.

Honoring my feelings

without needing to authenticate them.

Walking away without over-explaining. 

It looked like pouring into myself in the same ways I used to pour into others.

Softly.

Intentionally.

Without hesitation.

I started to move slowly.

To be present with myself.

To treat my body not just as

something to maintain — but something

to care for, to connect with.

Even in the smallest moments.

The way I speak to myself.

The way I rest.

The way I take my time.

The way I touch my own skin with care.

Not solely out of routine,

but out of deep love.

Softness (for me) is no longer

something I give away so easily.

It’s something I honor.

Something I protect.

Something I return to.

It lives in the way I choose myself

again and again.

In the boundaries I no longer feel guilty for.
In the love I pour into my own hands before offering it to anyone else.

This is what I’ve come to understand…
softness isn’t weakness.

It’s awareness.
It’s the courage to remain open in a world that taught you to close.

And now, when I care for myself…
when I take my time, when I move with love…
it’s more than routine.

It’s a reminder.

That I am worthy of the same tenderness I once gave so freely.

That choosing myself will always be the most powerful thing I can do.