Friendship, Rewritten in My Own Voice

by Kimberly C. Jones©

I’ve never been good at friendships
I give too much
And expect nothing in return

But somehow I still end up empty,
hands open,
heart tired,
wondering if generosity counts
when no one notices the cost.

I learned early how to be dependable—
How to be the soft place,
the steady one,
the one who remembers
what others forget
and carries the weight of unspoken things.

But no one taught me
how to ask for anything,
how to say “I need,”
how to let my presence
take up space
in the room..

So I shrink,
and they call it strength.
I pour,
and they call it love.
I break,
and they never notice the sound.

In the quietness of this pain
I found my own soft place to land.
I found those that taught me
what it’s like to receive—
to be wanted,
to be enough.

I’m slowly learning to ask for what I need,
to let others care about me,
care for me,
to believe that tenderness
can move toward me
without me having to earn it.

I’m learning that I don’t have to shrink
to be valued,
don’t have to overgive
to be kept close.
There are people who meet me
where I actually am—
not where I’ve bent myself
to be convenient.

And in their presence,
I’m remembering myself:
the girl who deserved softness
before she ever learned to offer it,
the woman who is finally choosing
to be held
without apology.

I’m becoming someone
who doesn’t disappear
to make others comfortable,
someone who knows her worth
even in the quiet,
someone who understands
that being cared for well
is not a miracle—
it’s a right.

And maybe this time,
I’m choosing me
first.

Not out of bitterness,
not out of fear,
but because I finally understand
that my heart is a home
worth returning to,
that my presence is a gift
even when I’m not giving,
that I deserve the kind of care
I’ve spent a lifetime offering.

This is the woman I’m becoming—
soft,
seen,
held,
and wholly mine.

And for the first time,
that feels like enough.