The Saddest Part
Updated: Jul 19
There was a time
I thought the hardest part
was losing people.
But loss has a way
of teaching you
what silence never could.
Because the real heartbreak
wasn’t in the goodbye —
it was in the slow, quiet unraveling
of who I became
trying to be enough for people
who were never enough for me.
I kept shrinking myself
to fit into rooms
that dimmed my spirit.
I kept softening my voice
so no one would feel
the weight of my truth.
I kept loving people
who only loved the version of me
that made their life easier.
And every time I bent,
I broke a little.
Every time I stayed,
I disappeared a little.
Every time I tried to hold on,
I lost another piece
of the woman I was becoming.
That’s the part no one talks about —
the grief that comes
not from losing them,
but from losing yourself in the process.
Remnants of Her Soul
was born from that moment.
The mirror moment.
The moment I realized
I wasn’t mourning the people who left.
I was mourning
the woman
I abandoned
trying to keep them.
The fragments.
The remnants.
The pieces of a woman
who once believed
she had to earn love
by being less.
But healing doesn’t whisper —
it breaks you open.
It forces you to see
what you refused to name.
It teaches you
that you don’t owe anyone
the version of you
that sacrifices your becoming
to protect their comfort.
You owe yourself
the version that stands tall,
even if standing
means standing alone.
So yes,
I lost people.
But in losing people
I found myself —
the woman
I had been searching for.
Remnants of Her Soul: From Ruins to Restoration
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