04/04/2025
Insecurities are quiet things at first. They slip in like shadows at dusk, unnoticed until the room is dim and unfamiliar. A stray thought, a passing comment, a comparison drawn from the pages of someone else’s story—they take root before you even realize you’ve given them space to grow.
They whisper in the moments between laughter, turning joy into hesitation. They coil around compliments, twisting them into questions. *Did they mean it? Were they just being polite?* They paint the mirror in shades of doubt, making you trace flaws you never saw before, making you wonder if the world sees them too.
Some days, they are small, manageable things—background noise in the hum of existence. Other days, they are mountains, impossible to climb, making every step feel heavier. They sit in the space between what you are and what you think you should be, measuring, weighing, waiting.
But insecurities are not the truth. They are ghosts, echoes of past fears, illusions cast by the mind. They do not define you. And maybe, just maybe, the more you face them, the quieter they become.
