I didn’t storm out. I didn’t make a scene. I just left—and I didn’t look back.
There’s a particular kind of loneliness that comes from being surrounded by people and still feeling unseen. I was in a group of women that had members who smiled through their teeth and their teeth could be sharp.
At first, I tried to play nice.
Then I tried to play along.
Eventually, I realized…I was playing a game I never even liked.
So I papered over it.
Not to pretend it didn’t happen—but to move on without dragging the mess with me. You don’t need to fit into spaces that require you to fold yourself up, shrink down, or edit your essence.
Here’s what I know now:
- Just because a group is loud, doesn’t mean it’s right.
- Just because they’re laughing, doesn’t mean it’s kind.
- Just because you’re invited, doesn’t mean you belong.
I didn’t leave because I was weak.
I left because I was wise enough to know I didn’t need to stay.
I didn’t say goodbye because… why?
There’s no point explaining yourself to people committed to misunderstanding you.
I didn’t fit in—because I’m not made to.
I’m made to stand out, to rise above, to walk away with my dignity and a damn good stride.
So yeah, I papered over that group.
Not out of spite. Out of self-respect.
I didn’t lose anything—I reclaimed myself.
