18/07/2025
I have done everything a boss lady shouldβ
built dreams from scraps, smiled through storms,
held it all together when no one asked if I was okay.
But life, in its cruel poetry,
bent meβ
not to break me,
but to teach me how to bloom again.
Now in my healing days,
I buy myself flowersβ
not as a consolation,
but as a quiet crown.
I take myself on movie dates,
sit in the dark beside my own stillness,
and let the story soothe the girl
no one stayed long enough to know.
I dine in five-star silence,
knife and fork in hands that once trembled
from giving too much.
I raise a glass to the woman
who no longer waits to be chosen.
I travel alone,
not to escapeβ
but to return to the parts of me
I once abandoned for love.
I take pictures of a woman becoming whole,
framed not by approval,
but by peace.
I date myself now.
With time, with tenderness,
with the patience I gave too freely to others.
I do the things a man should have doneβ
not out of spite,
but out of self-respect.
Because Iβve learned:
I will never beg again
for the kind of love
I have finally found
within me.
π₯|π¬πππππβ’πΉπππ|β‘
βοΈ ππ ππ²π°π’ Γπ ππ―π©ππ±π’ π΅ ππ’ πππ«π€-ππ―π¬π¦π‘ π‘π² πΓ©π°π¦π―
ππ·ππ©π’πβ’ππππ¦ Γ ππ²π‘ππ°
