Crow and Flame

I used to live my life in the shadows cast by others, frustrated that they never fit me right.
I measured my hopes against their accomplishments, my healing against their timelines, my worth against their applause. Somehow I was always too much or not enough. Too short for one dream. Too tall for another. Never the right shape for the life I thought I was supposed to live.

I spent years wondering why I couldn’t pack myself into neat little boxes the way everyone else seemed to.
Everyone looked so tidy from a distance. Their smiles folded crisp like freshly pressed clothes. Their grief hidden behind closed doors. Their fears tucked away where no one could trip over them.

Meanwhile, my soul looked like a room after a storm.

I tried to hide my demons. Tried to silence them before anyone noticed the music they danced to. Because I never saw anyone else’s skeletons rattling in the dark, I assumed they must have learned how to lock the closet tight.

But shadows are strange things.
They stretch. They distort. They convince you that someone else’s shape is the truth while yours is the flaw.

The truth is that most people are carrying ghosts they never speak about. Some just learned how to dress theirs in softer colors. Some learned how to smile while dragging chains. Some built entire identities around pretending they are untouched.

And some of us—some of us grew tired of pretending.

There came a point where I realized I was exhausting myself trying to become digestible. Trying to carve away the messy parts of me so I could fit inside spaces never built for my spirit.

Healing was never meant to look identical.
Survival was never supposed to be tidy.

Crows do not apologize for their noise. Fire does not ask permission before it burns.

So why did I?

Why did I spend so long believing my scars made me unworthy of being seen?

Now I understand this:
The goal was never to become smaller so I could fit inside someone else’s shadow. The goal was to step fully into my own light, even if it revealed every skeleton dancing behind me.

Especially then.