What I Was Never Mine to Carry

by Kimberly C. Jones©

I was taught my worth at an early age,
a weight I have carried too long—
shaped by silence,
held together by duty,
pressed into me before I knew
I could choose differently.

I grew up too fast,
learned to be an adult
before I ever learned to be a child.
And I thought this was the way
it was supposed to be—
the only story a girl like me
was allowed to live.

Those who benefited from my silence
worked hard to keep me quiet
and in my place—
a child with adult responsibilities,
caring for adults
who should have been caring for her.

As I learn to finally set the weight down,
I’m reclaiming the parts of me
I was taught to ignore—
the girl who wanted softness,
the woman who deserves rest,
the self who no longer bends
to be acceptable.
I’m choosing myself
with both hands open.

And in this space, I’m finding a truth,
that none of this was mine to carry—
not the silence,
not the duty,
not the version of myself
they needed me to be.
I’m setting it down,
piece by piece,
and choosing a life
that makes room for me too.

Now I’m learning to honor the life I’m choosing,
to move through my days without shrinking,
to let joy find me without suspicion.
I’m allowing softness to stay,
letting rest be a right, not a reward,
letting my future open without fear
that I’ll lose myself again.
I’m finally living in a way
that feels like mine.

And I’m learning that choosing myself
was never the betrayal they made it out to be—
it was the beginning.