I test the waters before I dive,
not out of fear, but love for depth
I’ve learned that not every open door
was built to guard my breath.
I don’t step into rooms that never asked,
not because I think I’m more,
but because I finally learned my presence
is something worth protecting for.
I keep my circle small and gentle,
not perfect, ust sincere,
the kind of souls who listen closely
when silence needs an ear.
I’m not hard to love, nor hard to stay with,
I’m simply soft with where I stand,
I’ve made peace with walking slower now,
so my heart can understand.
I’ve poured myself into empty hands,
into laughter that left me thin,
so now I choose who gets my stories,
and who gets to see my skin.
I don’t need noise to feel important,
or a crowd to feel I belong,
I found my strength in quiet mornings
and in learning when to move on.
I still care,
I still give.
I still feel too much sometimes.
I just no longer confuse kindness
with losing parts of myself in the climb.
I save my energy for real connection,
for the few who meet me where I am,
for conversations that heal the past
instead of reopening what I closed with my hands.
So if I seem distant, please understand
I’m choosing peace, not pride.
I’m choosing depth over attention,
and truth over the need to be seen outside.
That’s me,
not better, not above, not reserved by fear…
Just learning to love my life gently,
and protect what’s quietly dear.
