Choosing Myself First
The Illusion of Being Chosen
For a long time, I believed that being chosen would heal me.
That if someone picked me — really saw me — the emptiness would finally disappear.
I wanted to be the favorite.
The safe place.
The one someone couldn’t imagine their life without.
I thought love or friendship would be the missing puzzle piece.
That being wanted meant being worthy.
When “Being Picked” Isn’t Enough
And then… it happened.
Someone chose me.
In their words, in their actions, in all the ways I had once begged the world to notice me.
But the hollow didn’t leave.
Because no matter how much someone else valued me —
I hadn’t yet chosen myself.
And that’s a loneliness no one else can fill.
Learning a Different Kind of Peace
Wanting to be loved is human.
But building your worth on someone else’s choice is fragile.
It disappears the moment they leave, or shift, or stop seeing you the way you hoped.
Now I’m learning:
Peace isn’t being picked.
It’s being okay when you’re not.
It’s choosing yourself without waiting for permission.
And realizing that wholeness was never something someone else could hand you.
For the ones still learning to stand with themselves.
Thoughts to explore. Words to let go.
Notes That Found a Home
