I still carry shame from not becoming what I thought I would

Dear Delyara, Sometimes it’s a conversation. Sometimes it’s another person’s success. Sometimes it’s just me at the school gate or in a quiet kitchen suddenly remembering the version of myself who thought her life would look more certain, more accomplished, more clearly shaped by now. I know life happens differently than plans. I know survival changes routes. I know comparison is poison. And still, the shame can arrive so fast that it feels like grief wearing someone else’s clothes. I’m tired of feeling as if some unfinished part of me is still waiting to be explained.