Unbecoming Her

I was a good kid.

The quiet kind.

The one who didn’t cause problems.
Who followed directions.
Who did what she was supposed to do.

I came home with straight A’s.
My name on the Honor Roll.
Teachers called me a “model student.”

And I held onto that.

Like it meant something.
Like it protected me.

Looking back now…

I don’t think I was trying to be “good.”

I think I was trying to be safe.

I had already learned
to be careful with my voice.

To not say the wrong thing.
To not expect anyone to come.
To rely on myself.

So being good just became…
the next step.

If I didn’t make mistakes…
I wouldn’t get in trouble.

If I didn’t say the wrong thing…
I wouldn’t get hurt.

If I didn’t need anything…
I wouldn’t be disappointed.

So I stayed in line.

I kept my grades up.
I kept my feelings in.
I kept everything about me… manageable.

And it worked.

At least on the outside.

But somewhere in all of that…

I stopped asking for things.

I stopped speaking up.
I stopped letting people really see me.

Because being seen
didn’t feel safe.

Being good did.

I thought I was independent.
Disciplined.
Put together.

But really…

I was just trying
not to get it wrong.

And now I’m starting to see
how much of that
I carried into everything else.

My relationships.
My choices.
The way I show up.

I’m still learning
how to exist
without needing to be “good” first.