There are moments in childhood
that don’t leave.

Not because they were dramatic.

Because of what didn’t happen.

No one came.
No one held you.
No one said anything
when you needed it most.

And you didn’t understand it.

But you felt it.

That something was missing.
That something wasn’t there.

And you learned to keep going.

To not ask.
To not expect.
To not need.

But it didn’t disappear.

It stayed.

In the way you try to be seen.
In the way you try to be enough.
In the way you try—again and again—
to receive something
that was never given.

And most of the time…

you don’t even realize
that’s what you’re doing.

You just feel the weight.

So the question is not
what you’re trying to build.

It’s this:

What part of you
is still waiting—

for someone
to finally see you?

𝘔𝘶𝘴𝘪𝘤: 𝘈 𝘣𝘦𝘢𝘶𝘵𝘪𝘧𝘶𝘭 𝘮𝘦𝘭𝘰𝘥𝘺 𝘤𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘵𝘦𝘥 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘮𝘦 𝘣𝘺 𝘍𝘭𝘰𝘳𝘦𝘯𝘤𝘪𝘢 𝘔𝘢𝘤𝘤𝘩𝘪𝘢𝘳𝘰𝘭𝘢