I once apologized.
For the tears. For the fact that my voice trembled. For not being silent when it hurt.
I apologized when I confessed my sympathy, when I sincerely admired someone, when I was sad.
Sorry for being “too much”. Sorry for feeling.

But now — no. I no longer apologize for the real me.

I don’t have to hide what lives inside me.
I have a heart that beats strongly. A soul that is sensitive to every detail. And this is not a flaw.
This is my truth.

A woman was taught to be silent so as not to seem “hysterical”.
To smile so as not to seem “complicated”.
Not to demand, not to want, not to wait — just “to be comfortable”.

But I am not comfortable. I am alive.

I can fall in love with a voice.
I can want to be closer than the “social framework” allows.
I can miss someone I haven’t touched yet. And I’m not ashamed.

I no longer think about whether it’s “normal.”
I just feel. And that’s enough.

And if my sincerity scares someone, I let go.
Because I’m no longer going to reduce myself to fit into someone’s narrow comfort zone.

My feelings are not a problem.

My emotionality is not a flaw.

It’s my superpower.

I don’t apologize.
I love, I feel, I’m a woman — and I’m proud of it.