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She’s Still Here

She’s the voice in my head that never shuts up.

The one that knows exactly where to hit because she sounds like me.

She tells me I’m too much. Too loud. Too emotional. Too broken to be loved the way I want to be. And the worst part is — I believe her.


I try to shut her out, but she’s been with me for so long that she feels familiar. Safe, in a twisted way. She tells me I’m the problem, that I ruin everything I touch, that if I just tried harder or stayed quieter or didn’t feel so deeply, maybe things would finally work out.


She watches me in the mirror and lists everything I hate before I even get the chance to look away. She reminds me of every mistake, every moment I wasn’t enough. She keeps receipts. She never forgets. And she never lets me forget either.


I’ve blamed other people for the pain before, but deep down I know — she’s the one who keeps me here. The voice that tells me I deserve the hurt. That I should expect disappointment. That I don’t get to be gentle with myself because I haven’t earned it.


I fight her sometimes. I tell her she’s wrong. I tell her I’m trying. I tell her I’m learning how to be kinder to myself. But she laughs, because she knows my weak spots. She knows how to twist my fear into truth and call it honesty.


And still… she’s a part of me.


I hate that.

I hate that I can’t just walk away from her.

I hate that she sounds so much like my own thoughts.


But maybe naming her is the first step. Maybe seeing her for what she is — not truth, not reality, but a wound that learned how to speak — is how I start taking my power back.


Because she isn’t me.

She’s just the voice I learned to survive with.

And maybe, one day, I’ll finally learn how to live without her.


-The Healing Chaos

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