Diaries of a Twenty-Six-Year Old Girl

I think I look healed. Put together.

My parents smile at me now and say, “I’m so proud of you.”
And they mean it.

From the outside, my growth is visible. It shows.

But internally, some days still feel like I’m breaking.
Like I’m worth nothing.

I’ve come so far. I am different. I have changed.
But there’s still a voice in the back of my mind that whispers:
“Not good enough. Not worth anything.”

Even when the world around me reflects the opposite.

Because when a child is made to feel like they’re not worth the air they breathe,
they don’t question it—
they believe it.

I learned I was “different” in classrooms.
While I was trying to survive internally, I was expected to focus, perform, and keep up.

But classrooms reward compliance and visible intelligence.
They don’t always see the ones who are struggling just to stay afloat.

And sometimes, whether directly or indirectly, the message becomes:
“They’re not going to make it… so why even try?”

Those words—those projections—
settle into a small body that just needed one person to say,
“Let me help you.”

Teachers carry so much influence.
They can shape a child into confidence—
or into shame.

I was molded into shame—reinforced each year by authority figures who assumed I wouldn’t make it in life.

And why would I question them?
I was a child.

That pain shaped my reality for a long time.
Healing didn’t erase it—it just helped me see it.

So if you’re ever around a child who is struggling,
Remember: you may be the voice they carry with them for the rest of their life.