good god girl get a grip
I feel burdened by the weight of being seen through someone else's eyes, and by how much space their opinions can take up in my chest if I let them. There's a quiet pressure in being perceived, of being labeled, remembered, and reduced to versions of ourselves we've already outgrown. Sometimes I catch myself believing the way others see me must be the truth. That if enough people misunderstand me, maybe I really am what they think. But perception is unstable. It shifts with mood, memory, and assumption. It often reveals more about the observer than the subject, though not always, because sometimes it's simply incomplete. I remember a moment when this became clear. Someone I care about brought up something I said years ago, as if it still defines me. I tried to explain that I no longer think or feel that way anymore, but I could tell they were speaking to that older version of me instead of the person I have become. I left that conversation feeling strangely invisible, l...