The Greatest

I used to think love was about proving yourself. About waiting, about giving, about being the most patient, the most understanding, the one who never leaves. I told myself if I held on long enough, if I gave enough, eventually, I’d matter. Eventually, they’d see me.

But time has a way of making you see the truth, whether you’re ready or not. And the truth is, no amount of love, patience, or sacrifice can make someone appreciate you if they don’t want to. You can pour everything into a person, into a moment, into something you believe in, and still, it won’t be enough, not because you weren’t enough, but because they were never capable of receiving it in the first place.

I made it easy for people. I didn’t complain. I didn’t ask for much. I stayed even when I felt like a ghost in the room. And for what? A pat on the back? A half-hearted “thank you”? A moment of acknowledgment before they moved on, like I was just another thing in their life that served its purpose?

At some point, you have to ask yourself: Is this really what I deserve?

Strength isn’t in how much you can take. It’s in knowing when to stop taking it.

I’m not here to be "the greatest" anymore. I’m not here to be the most patient, the most forgiving, the one who waits forever. I’m here to be me, loud, quiet, complicated, simple, soft, strong, whatever I feel like being. And if that’s not enough for someone, that’s on them.

I’ve spent enough time shrinking myself to fit into spaces that were never meant for me. Now, I take up space. I exist without asking permission. I love without losing myself.

And if you’ve ever felt like you had to prove your worth just to be loved, stop. You don’t have to be the greatest. You just have to be real. 

 That’s more than enough.