Where My Light Dimmed

There are some people in life you wish you never had to meet. Not because they didn’t matter—but because of how deeply they changed you in ways you never asked for.

You were that person for me.

You made me hate my job.
You made me dread workdays, especially mornings that used to feel like fresh starts.
You made something as simple as checking my messages feel heavy—like I was about to receive something that would ruin my entire mood.

And slowly, without me even realizing it, you made me doubt myself.

I used to believe in what I could do. I used to feel capable. There was a fire in me—something steady, something hopeful. But somewhere along the way, your words, your tone, your presence… they chipped away at that. Until I found myself questioning things I used to be sure about.

You didn’t just criticize my work.
You made me question my worth.

And that’s what hurt the most.

But here’s the part I struggle to admit—
I know I shouldn’t give you so much credit. Because maybe, if you ever knew how much you affected me, how you somehow managed to ruin a part of me, it would only make you feel good. And I hate the thought of that. I hate the idea that my pain could ever be someone else’s validation.

And yet… here I am, still carrying it.

As much as I wish I didn’t have to go through that, a part of me still believes that we were meant to cross paths. That somehow, in the middle of all that discomfort and anxiety, there was something I was meant to learn.

Maybe it’s how I should never make someone else feel the way you made me feel.
Maybe it’s learning how to protect my peace better next time.
Maybe it’s realizing that not all authority deserves to be internalized.

Because even now, I’m still carrying pieces of that experience.

There are days when I feel okay—when I laugh, when I function, when everything seems normal. But then there are moments when it all comes back. The anxiety. The weight of your words. The feeling of not being enough.

It’s strange how something that’s already over can still live inside you.

I wish I could say I’ve fully moved on.
I wish I could say none of it affects me anymore.
But the truth is, I’m still healing.

Still unlearning the things you made me believe about myself.
Still trying to separate your voice from my own.

And maybe that’s okay.

Healing doesn’t happen all at once. It comes in quiet realizations, in small moments of courage, in choosing—again and again—to believe in yourself despite everything.

So I’m holding on to that hope.

That one day, I’ll wake up and not feel the weight anymore.
That checking my messages won’t make my chest tighten.
That I’ll find that fire again—the one you tried to put out, but never really destroyed.

Because maybe you were part of my story…
but you don’t get to be the ending.



au revoir. 😊


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