You learned early how to earn love.

A smile when you’re sad. A compliment instead of a boundary.
A shape-shifting softness that made others comfortable.

But love that must be performed is never secure.

It leaves you exhausted, hollow, uncertain of who you are when the curtain drops.

You were never meant to be an actor in your own life.
You were meant to be real.

Messy.
Glorious.
Whole.

And the ones who truly love you?

They’ll stay when the performance ends.
They’ll applaud the truth of you.