Over the course of my life, my priorities have remained steadily in the emotional realms rather than the superficial ones. I’ve always been profoundly aware of my surroundings—and, admittedly, frequently gotten caught up in them—but always remain vulnerable to them. This has led me to wonder, over the years, why I always seem to welcome betrayal. 

I’m not a particularly forward person; actually, I’m more the opposite. I can’t even start a conversation without getting anxious about the way others see me or the fact that I could possibly mess up what I’m trying to say. 

I want to be there for everybody. In my brain, I’m useless until I’m helping somebody. 

Truly, there’s nothing that hurts me more than knowing that other people get hurt so often. So, stupidly, I welcome them with open arms. 

This, in and of itself, isn’t the part that’s stupid of me. Being there to help people is just the right thing to do. However, this is only to a certain extent. 

I’ve been hurt before, time and time again, and it’s thrown my friends, family, and me for a loop.  

But now, I’m deciding to change that. 

I never want people to get hurt. That’s the same as it’s always been, but now, it includes me. I don’t deserve pain any more than the rest of the world, just as the world doesn’t deserve any more pain than I do. 

I’m in awe of the beautiful things I see in the world, and I am now learning to realize that I can be a part of those beautiful things. I’m a living and breathing human being, and that’s pretty amazing to me. 

I have a heart beating inside my chest, and that’s incredible. I may not be an onion or an ogre, but I have layers upon layers of bones and skin and blood composing something that’s capable of so much. That’s pretty amazing. 

I have a mind working constantly to let me function as a person. I have feelings—though, in my case, a bit too present at times—that are so beautiful and unique and fascinating to me. 

And I didn’t realize until I found the people who mean the most to me now, that I need to protect those feelings. 

I can’t sacrifice them all just to help someone else’s.

And, while staying profoundly aware of the needs of those near me, I will perhaps sometimes struggle with welcoming pain as before. But now, I will be profoundly aware of my own needs, too.