A Version I Outgrew 

I changed, but not to leave or flee,

I simply stopped abandoning me,

No more bending just to please,

I stepped outside their silent freeze.

I spoke my truth, not loud, but clear,

And watched them slowly disappear,

Not with a scream, but with a shrug,

As if my soul disturbed their drug.

For healing breaks the secret ties,

That feed on guilt and quiet lies,

And when I wouldn’t play that part,

They claimed I’d grown a colder heart.

But growth undoes what chains once kept,

And shakes the ground where pain has slept,

Some loved the version I outgrew,

Because it served what they clung to.

So when I chose a different pace,

They called it distance, out of place.

But leaving roles that made me small

Was never selfishness at all.

Cathrine Hottran 2025