The One I Want To Become

If you asked me at age six, I might've told you I want to become a doctor, a scientist or even a hero that saves the planet. But now I feel so ancient, like I’ve lived a hundred years in quiet rooms where no one noticed the girl holding the walls up. I’ve carried generations in my chest my mother’s sorrow, my friends’ storms, strangers' cries through screens. But no one asked about the violence it took to be this nice. I don’t know at what age i started pretending i didn’t feel pain. Maybe it was when i realized crying only made things worse. When the people who were supposed to hold me looked away, or worse, blamed me for the ache i couldn’t name. I was never the child who got to throw tantrums and be soothed. I was the one who stayed quiet so no one else would hurt. I was never the child who broke things, I was the one who fixed it, the one who swallowed her tears so her mother wouldn’t drown in them. the one who cleaned up the emotional mess of people too broken to see they were breaking me. I forgave my mother before i understood what forgiveness even meant. I learned to rationalize pain before i even learned to spell it. Every year, i told myself, “you’re so mature for your age.” like it was a good thing. like it wasn’t just another way of saying, “you're not going to be saved" I grew up too fast. Maturity wasn’t a badge of honor, it was a survival instinct. And so i became the understanding daughter, the forgiving friend. The girl who sees the best in people even when they hand her their worst. I said “it’s okay” so many times my throat forgot how to say anything else. I was just a little girl who wanted to be held, not lectured, not told to be quiet. Not blamed for someone else’s bad day, just held. I forgave my mother before i even understood why she hurt me. Before i knew that love isn’t supposed to feel like guilt. Like walking on glass to earn a hug. Like apologizing for bleeding after someone else cuts you. I always had to be the bigger person. Even when i was the smallest one in the room. But what about me? Who held me when i was hurting? Who listened when i was silent But screaming, crying, Begging to be seen. So, i want to become the listener, the healer, the wise one in the room. The girl who always gets it, and says the right things. I want to become someone, I needed so badly but never had. —12th april,2025