I thought you’d stay through every season,
but growth has its own quiet reason.
The me you knew no longer fits,
your picture of me begins to split.
You loved the past, the shape I wore,
but I am not that self anymore.
Each step I take, each truth I claim,
reshapes the edges of my name.
And in that shift, you drift away,
a shadow fading into day.
No anger here, no blame to give,
just proof of how we learn to live.
For growth demands both loss and flame,
a shedding skin, a brand new frame.
I ache, I grieve, I let you go,
to find the self I’ve yet to know.
And somewhere on this higher ground,
new hearts will come, new hands be found.
Those who can see me as I rise,
will walk with light within their eyes.
So if you cannot walk this way,
I bless you, love you, and still pray—
but I will not shrink, I will not fall,
I’m becoming the truest me of all.
Comments ()