I made myself lunch like I was someone worth feeding properly

Dear Delyara, Not scraps. Not children’s leftovers. Not toast eaten standing up while answering a question with my back to the sink. Proper lunch. I cut fruit onto the plate instead of eating it over the bin. I added the thing I actually wanted instead of the cheaper, sadder substitute. I sat down to eat it before 3 p.m. and did not ask myself whether I had earned that level of care. It sounds tiny. It wasn’t tiny. Some victories happen in the privacy of how you stop treating yourself like an afterthought.