They didn’t break me they replaced me
There is a kind of damage that doesn’t look like pain It looks like a life that never quite feels like yours
You wake up in routines you don’t remember choosing You answer to names you don’t feel connected to You chase versions of success that feel strangely hollow
And one day you realize
Somewhere along the way you stopped being the author of your own life
Not because you were weak Because you were taught to be useful agreeable impressive easy
You were praised for disappearing Rewarded for obedience Loved when you mirrored what others wanted to see
So you became legible You became safe You became everything except yourself
And that is the deepest kind of theft
Not of your body Not of your time But of your first voice
The one you had before you learned how to perform
I am not here to heal what was stolen I am here to take myself back
This is not a comeback It is a retrieval
And I am done living as the understudy in my own story
I Wrote Myself Back Into This Body out now
Amazon.com: I Wrote Myself Back Into This Body eBook : Hamid, Aya: Kindle Store