I Still Want Approval From People Whose Approval Has Never Been A Safe Place To Put My Worth

Dear Delyara, I know better. I know their limits. I know the tone, the history, the emotional conditions under which approval arrives and the speed with which it can be withdrawn or made conditional or wrapped in subtle criticism so that even kindness leaves a mark. And still, some part of me wants it. Still reacts to it. Still feels slightly taller when it arrives and slightly smaller when it doesn’t. I wish I were freer than that. I am not fully free. There is a child in me still standing in certain doorways looking for softness from the very people who trained me to survive without relying on it too much. That contradiction is exhausting. And real.