She was born with wings too soft for this world.

Not angelic, just open. Just pure. Fragile.

Just a heart that felt too much and a spirit that hadn’t learned yet that not everyone would hold it with care.

She noticed everything.

The way the sky shifted before a storm.

The trembling in her mother’s voice when she tried to sound strong.

The sadness behind her silence.

The disappointment behind her father’s anger.

The pain in others they didn’t dare name.

She felt it all, like it was hers to carry.

They called her sensitive.

Too emotional. Too dramatic. Too tender.

She was told to toughen up, to stop crying, to be more like the others.

But she wasn’t like the others.

She was made of something else.

What they didn’t see was that her gentleness was a kind of strength.

That it took courage to keep her heart soft

in a world that so often asked her to close it.

But she didn’t know that yet.

So she dimmed. She quieted. She curled in on herself.

She wore masks, grew careful, learned the art of being invisible.

She learned to not ask. To not have needs.

And the wings?

She still had them.

But they were folded now, pressed against the walls of her ribcage like secrets,

whispering of a freedom she no longer believed she deserved.

Years passed.

She became what the world needed:

capable, calm, composed.

But inside, the echo of that girl remained.

A soft cry in the night,

a flicker of wonder in the middle of the day,

a longing to be seen in her too-muchness

and loved for it.

That echo never left.

Because she was never meant to disappear.

She had wings made of glass and a heart that felt everything.

The world didn’t know what to do with her softness.

But her echo still sings in the woman she became: resilient, radiant, and free.

She was meant to remember.

Love🤍

Aniela

www.MindfulTherapist.us

#empoweredwomen #healingjourney #sensitivepeople 

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