It’s easy to get lost in a crowded space, when you feel that there isn’t any room for the things that you love and the things that you care about. You listen in to the murmurs around you, trying to get a sense of what’s going on, trying to find a way into the conversation. No worthy thoughts come into your mind. And who would want to hear your unworthy ones? You never thought of your self esteem as something fragile until you entered this space. Now you fear that one mistake might be all that it takes. You smile, laugh, and latch upon some sense of acceptability. But this won’t be enough. You know this.
And so you walk between the lines, searching for something that you didn’t even know you were looking for. You pretend to have found it, and exclaim a false sense of epiphany. But it’s like the others can see right through you and no one pays you any mind. You become quiet, hoping by some contradictory possibility that you are more visible when you don’t speak at all. Of course, it doesn’t work. Why should it?
You feel ashamed for wanting something more. Be thankful for what you have, you whisper under your breath. After all, it could always be worse. This is so minuscule of a problem that it’s barely a problem at all. Yet you remain fixated on this urge, this craving to be heard. You know so very well that this isn’t the right path for you to go down. You don’t have to find your place in this crowd. Because this probably isn’t where you belong.
You belong here. This is your space. I promise you things will be okay. Here, you are free. Here, no thoughts are unworthy of being said. Everything matters. Or doesn’t have to. You have the right to choose. You can stay for as long as you want. Until you find out what it was you were looking for. Until you want to leave again. Here is safety. Here is comfort. Here is exactly what you needed.