Was It Me or Who I Learned to Be

I bit my tongue and gave my truth away Am I shy… or just afraid to disagree? I learned to take up less and less of me.

I shrink and blend to make way. Am I kind… or afraid they won’t like what they see? What if that was never really me?

They call it “shy.” I let them think that way. But deep inside, it never feels like me. I learned to take up less and less of me.

I don’t push back, letting them lead the way. Is that my choice… or just anxiety? What if that was never really me?

A fading voice, a lost identity Is this who I am… or who I learned to be? I learned to take up less and less of me. What if that was never really me?

For years, I thought I was just quiet. Shy. Easygoing. But the truth is, I was shrinking. Masking. Agreeing to avoid rejection. This poem came from that realization—that I don’t know if the version of me I became was ever real… or just who I learned to be. For years, I thought I was just quiet. Shy. Easygoing. But the truth is, I was shrinking. Masking. Agreeing to avoid rejection. This poem came from that realization—that I don’t know if the version of me I became was ever real… or just who I learned to be.