There was a time when I would stop and pet EVERY cat I saw and go up to pet it despite my severe cat allergy. I’d smile at random old ladies, make silly faces at babies in line to hear them laugh. I used to blush when someone looked at me in that soft, lingering kind of way. I giggled at voice notes, happy-cried over the smallest thing, and sent “I miss you” texts without shame. I was emotionally open…maybe even too open sometimes. But that version of me? She’s MIA.
I don’t look up anymore. I keep my headphones in even when nothing’s playing, just to avoid interaction. I avoid eye contact. I don’t linger. I don’t initiate. I don’t trust. Not fully, not easily, and definitely not the way I used to. It’s like my default setting switched from “welcome” to “don’t get too close.” Not because I don’t want connection, but because I’ve stopped believing that it’s safe to want it.
The shift didn’t happen overnight. It started with “Him”, and then it got worse after Miss ended things abruptly. Both of those situations changed something in me. They didn’t just hurt me…they rewired me. I started questioning my own instincts. I’d get that tight feeling in my chest, that inner knowing, but I’d ignore it. Because I was trying so hard to be patient, understanding. I didn’t want to be “too much.” I didn’t want to cause problems. So I swallowed my feelings, shrank a little more, and made space for people who weren’t making any for me. And now… I just don’t show up at all.
At some point, I became cold. I didn’t even notice it at first. I thought I was evolving. I thought I was becoming wise, emotionally mature, above the chaos. I told myself that pulling away from people before they could hurt me was protecting myself. I thought I was strong. Independent. Emotionally intelligent. But I am secretly grieving the version of me that used to be able to just feel things without having sleepless nights about it.
The truth is, I miss softness. Not the fake kind. I miss the softness that felt natural. I miss laughing so hard I snort. I miss random compliments. I miss caring out loud. I miss reaching out to someone and not immediately regretting it. I miss crying and not feeling weak for it. I miss the twinkle I used to have…but I am just so scared. Scared to connect…in the back of mind, there is an imaginary clock ticking away at the countdown to their inevitable departure.
Being soft comes with risk…and boy, have I been burned. So now, I overthink everything. I hesitate. I double-check my own tone. I analyse people’s words, their silence, and their pauses. I feel safest when I’m detached, when I don’t need anything from anyone. And yeah, there’s power in that. But there’s also loneliness. A kind that’s hard to explain because it’s not about being alone physically but rather about realizing that even when people are around, you’re never fully letting yourself be seen anymore.
I want her back. Not the naïve version. Not the one who tolerated red flags and gave out trust like candy. But the version who felt deeply and didn’t apologize for it. The one who didn’t carry shame around softness. The one who knew how to be vulnerable and safe at the same time. The one who didn’t think twice about making a small gesture of care, even if no one noticed it. The one who felt proud to love people out loud.
I want to flirt without analysing every word. I want to say “I miss you” without panicking about whether they’ll say it back. I want to stop building backup plans in my head just in case someone disappoints me. I want to stop holding my breath emotionally, waiting for the next disappointment. I want to trust again. Not blindly…but fully.
And no, I’m not there yet. I still flinch. Still hold back. Still pretend I’m okay even when I’m unravelling inside. Still give BOMBASTIC SIDE EYE. Still use humor and sarcasm to cover up how badly I want someone to just see me. But sometimes, on a good day, I catch a glimpse. Maybe I smile at a baby in the taxi. Maybe I send a voice note without rerecording it. Maybe I let myself be soft, just for a moment.
All of this is soooo cliché….but oh well
Being soft was never my problem…Maybe I just gave it to the wrong people, and I want to take the time to forgive myself for that.. My softness is what makes Nirvana Nirvana. She isn’t gone, she is just taking a break, and I will give her that time.
That part of me isn’t gone. She’s tired. She’s healing…recuperating. And when she’s ready to come back…I’ll be ready to receive her with open arms and yummy chocolate.
Xoxo
Nirvana