16/09/2026
In another life, I donât want to be a girl.
I donât want to be born into a family
I spent my whole life dreaming of escaping from.
In another life, I want to know what it feels like to be safeâ
to have a home that feels like peace,
to have a shelter I can run to
at any hour, in any situation, under any circumstance,
without fear, without hesitation,
knowing there will always be a place for me.
I want to be loved so deeply
that I never have to wonder if I am worthy of it.
In another life, I want to be nonchalant, chaotic, funny, and loudâ
the kind of person everyone notices,
the kind whose silence makes people wonder,
âAre you okay?â
In another life, I want to be free.
Free enough to disappear into the woods,
to run toward the ocean,
to follow the wind wherever it takes me,
without having to ask anyone for permission to exist.
In another life,
I donât want someone else deciding
what I should do,
where I can go,
what I can wear,
or how loudly I am allowed to live.
I donât want to be told to be quiet
just because my laughter was too loud,
or because I was too happy,
too excited,
too alive.
In another life,
I donât want to be the firstborn daughter
who learns to accept everything in silence,
who understands everyoneâs pain
but never knows where to put her own.
I donât want to be the mature, understanding, âgood girlâ
who never asks for too much,
never cries too loudly,
never screams for the things she desperately wants,
and slowly learns to believe
that wanting anything at all is selfish.
In another life,
I donât want to hide what I need
because asking for it feels like a crime.
I donât want my sadness to be something I have to defend.
I donât want to be judged
simply because I cried,
simply because sometimes
I couldnât pretend to be okay.
In another life,
I want to be beautiful enough
that my father never looks at me with worry,
never fears that his daughter is not beautiful enough
for the world to cherish her,
or that no one will ever choose to love her.
And in another life,
I wish there is someone who finds me
and stays.
Someone who loves me gently,
cares for every little piece of me,
adores the parts I was taught to hide,
and holds my heart so carefully
that all the sorrows I carried for years
finally disappear like smoke into the night.
In another life,
I donât want to spend my whole life wishing for another one.
I just want a place to run to.
A place that feels like home.
A place where I can fall apart
without being ashamed of my tears.
I just want to be free.
I just want to be loved.
I just want to feel safe enough
to finally be myself.
âī¸- Maha