“I made a home in this darkness.
But home is not a prison.
I am worthy. To be me.”
This life of mine has never been an easy one. That’s no secret. But I’m alive. And that counts for something, right? I may have made a home in this darkness. But home is not synonymous with prison. Home is not a place where I can’t be loved just as I am. Home is not a place where I cannot be happy in my own skin. Because these scars are proof of my resilience. To keep pushing forward. To keep fighting. And I no longer bear them with shame. That weight is no longer mine to bear. It was never supposed to be mine. Home is a place where I broke through every barrier that was erected against me. And you know what? I might be bruised, but I’m fucking brave…
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