The Version They Never Met

You remember the side comments.
The background chatter.
The opinions dressed up as facts.

What you'd be when you grew up.
Who you’d become.
How far you'd go—
or wouldn’t.

Funny how they tried to map out your life
before you even knew how to ride a bike.

Before you cared about anything
besides catching your favorite cartoon—
or staying outside
ten more minutes
before the streetlights came on.

Back then,
your biggest concern
was whether you’d get the blue popsicle.

Not whether you’d become
someone worth noticing.

Maybe you did fit the version they expected.
Maybe you went further
than they ever saw coming.

Or maybe—
you became someone else entirely.

And they never got to meet that version.

Never saw what you made
of what they dismissed.
Never heard the way your voice changed
when you started telling your own story.

But here’s the thing—
you didn’t do it for them.

You moved forward.
And you did it for you—
knowing it was never about anyone else.

Because something in you
knew how to keep going.

And if you’re not who you want to be yet—
you can start again.

You can begin again
as many times as you need to.

Every morning.
Every moment.

Again.

And while you're there—

look around.

Take in the view.

It’s yours now.

—Angela

the voice beneath Daughter, Unwritten
My story will never fully be written.