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LOSING YOURSELF SLOWLY.

INTRODUCTION.

“When the Mirror Stops Recognizing You: A Slow Disappearance”
There is a version of you that once lived freely  wild-eyed, untamed, deeply alive.  
And then, slowly that version began to fade.  
Not in a loud explosion, but in quiet moments no one else noticed.  
The kind of moments that leave fingerprints on the soul.
This is not a story of a breakdown.  
This is the story of someone trying too hard to hold it all together.

The Disappearance Doesn’t Start With a Storm.


It starts on days you don’t cry because you’re too numb.  
It starts when you laugh but it doesn’t reach your chest.  
It starts when your silence is misread as strength.
And no one sees the way you rehearse “I’m okay” in your head  
Before you step into rooms that expect you to shine,  
Even when you’re quietly flickering.


THE TRAUMA DOESN'T KNOCK IT SETTLES IN.

Trauma doesn’t show up wearing a name tag.  
It hides in how quickly you apologize.  
How you flinch when someone raises their voice not because they’ll hit,  
But because words have always cut deeper.
You learn to stay quiet. To stay small.  
To be needed but not needy.
To give love like it’s currency,  
Even when you’re emotionally bankrupt.

You Lose Yourself in the Name of Connection.

Relationships become survival missions.  
You learn their moods better than your own.  
You water their insecurities while your roots dry up.  
You bend and bend  and bend  
Until even you can’t remember your original shape.
Because they liked you better when you were quieter.  
Because they stayed when you made yourself smaller.  
And staying felt safer than being alone.
But survival isn’t love.  
And self-erasure is not loyalty.

The Mirror Begins to Forget Your Face.

One day you wake up and everything feels foreign.
Your favorite music doesn’t stir you.  
You scroll, numb.  
Your hobbies? Neglected.  
Your dreams? Gathering dust like forgotten books.
You look in the mirror, and you recognize your features,  
But not the person inside them.
Not the girl who used to write poems under the stars.  
Not the boy who wanted to build something beautiful.  
Not the human who once believed they were enough without performance.


This Isn’t Depression. This Is Disconnection.

You’re functioning.  
You go to work. You respond to texts. You post stories.
But inside?  
You’re vanishing.
Your soul has wandered so far from your body,
You wonder if it even remembers how to come back.
And no one sees it  because you’ve mastered the art of performing “fine.”

When Healing Feels Like Betrayal.

When you finally decide to choose yourself, it won’t feel brave.  
It will feel like betrayal.
You’ll cancel plans. You’ll disappoint people.  
You’ll say “no” more often and mean it.  
You’ll stop pretending that someone’s half-love is enough.
Unfortunately it will feel like you’re breaking things.
But what’s really breaking.
Are the versions of you that were never yours to carry.

The Return to Self Is Not a Rescue. It’s a Remembering.

Healing doesn’t look like glitter or glow-ups.
It looks like sitting in the silence  
And finally letting yourself feel the ache.

It looks like journaling the truth, unfiltered.  
It looks like re-learning how to trust your body, your voice, your needs.
It looks like asking:  
- What do I actually want?  
- What would I do if I didn’t fear being too much?  
- Who am I when I’m not trying

The Soft Rebellion of selflove.

Choosing yourself in a world that taught you to disappear is radical.
But the world doesn’t get to define you.  
Your trauma doesn’t get the last word.  
Your failed relationships don’t own your story.
The version of you that once felt deeply, loved loudly, laughed recklessly 
They’re not gone.
They’re just waiting.  
Waiting for you to come back.  
Waiting for you to stop performing and start being.

CONCLUSION.

You are not too far gone
If you’ve lost yourself, it doesn’t mean you failed.
It means you survived.
But now, it’s time to do more than survive.  
It’s time to reclaim,Rebuild and Reignite.
You are allowed to take your voice back.  
Your dreams,your softness and your wholeness.
Piece by piece.  
Breath by breath.
You are still in there. And you are worth the return.

By Yvonne.

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