I miss the version of me who wanted things without immediately negotiating them down

Dear Delyara, I miss her appetite. Her movement. Her emotional room. Now every desire enters a committee meeting in my head. Cost. Risk. Timing. Family impact. Energy. Probability. Age. What people would think. What would happen if I failed. Whether it’s realistic. Whether I’m only being emotional. Whether I’m already too tired to carry one more beginning. That is not wisdom alone. Some of it is damage. Some of it is disappointment sediment. Some of it is years of practical life narrowing the pathways through which bigger wanting can move. I don’t think I’ve lost all ambition. I think I’ve lost my ability to let it breathe for more than thirty seconds before fear calls itself prudence and takes over the room.