"I used to run from her. Now, I hold her hand."
Dear Diary,
Something strange happened today.
During art class, we were asked to paint "what lives inside us."
Most people drew hearts, stars, flowers.
I… drew a girl made of smoke.
She had my eyes, but darker.
My voice, but sharper.
And she looked like she was tired of being ignored.
When I showed it to my teacher, she smiled nervously and moved on.
No one understood. But I did.
Because she's been with me for a long time.
My shadow.
She follows me when I'm walking home late, whispering, "They're all judging you."
She stands beside me when I laugh too loud, murmuring, "That wasn't cute. That was too much."
She curls around my shoulders when I'm quiet at a party, reminding me, "You don't belong here."
I've spent years pretending not to hear her.
But tonight, I decided to stop pretending.
I lit a candle. Turned off all the lights.
And stood in front of the wall, watching her shape stretch beside me.
She was taller than I remembered.
"Why do you always follow me?" I asked.
Her voice was soft, like mine when I'm unsure.
"Because I was made from everything you hide."
I swallowed.
"I don't want to be scared of you anymore."
She stepped closer.
"I'm not here to scare you. I'm here to remind you what still needs healing."
She reached out her hand. I hesitated. But then, slowly… I took it.
In that moment, I remembered things I'd pushed down:
— The time I failed publicly and felt too ashamed to speak.
— The time someone I loved made me feel invisible.
— The time I cried in silence, so no one would call me dramatic.
She wasn't evil. She wasn't ugly.
She was just wounded.
A piece of me that never got the hug she needed.
We sat on the floor, cross-legged and quiet.
"I thought if I ignored you, you'd go away," I said.
She smiled, just barely.
"I didn't want to go away. I wanted you to look at me… and not flinch."
And so, I did.
For the first time, I saw her not as the enemy… but as the part of me that kept my secrets when no one else could.
And then she whispered her name:
"I'm the part of you that's trying so hard to protect you from pain… that I forgot how to let you live."
We cried.
Together.
And when I opened my eyes, the candle had melted low, and the shadow on the wall wasn't towering anymore.
It was sitting. Calm. Still. Waiting.
I blew a kiss toward it and said:
"You're not my monster. You're my mirror."
And she smiled.
Till tomorrow,
Wunor 🖤🌫️