I Choose Myself, Over and Over

In the quiet after chaos, when the world pulls in every direction, I return— to the center of my breath, to the rhythm of my own name. They taught me to bend, to please, to disappear. But I’ve learned the art of staying. Of holding my ground like rain holds the sky. Even when it’s lonely, even when the mirror offers doubt, I choose— the scars I’ve earned, the voice I’ve reclaimed, the fire I refuse to snuff out. I choose myself, not in selfishness, but in sacred survival. Over and over, again and again— I rise, and I choose me.