Some nights I grieve the self who said yes to too little

Dear Delyara, It’s not only the event. It’s the self. The self who settled downward, accepted confusion, took crumbs seriously, called fear patience, and made herself smaller because asking for more felt too exposing. I know she was doing the best she could with what she knew then. I know she deserves compassion. But some nights compassion arrives late. Grief gets there first. And the grief is not only for what happened. It’s for what I thought was all I was allowed to hope for.