You let someone dim your light once. Then you did it to yourself every day after. They didn't break you. You continued the job.
They said one thing. You repeated it a thousand times. The original damage was small. The self-inflicted sequel was catastrophic.
Someone said something cruel to you once.
Maybe you were young. Maybe you were vulnerable. Maybe you were both.
The sentence landed and it left a mark.
Not because it was true. Because it was timed perfectly.
It arrived at the exact moment you were asking yourself the same question.
Am I enough?
Their answer sealed the verdict your insecurity was already drafting.
From that day forward you carried their sentence like a tattoo.
You repeated it to yourself before every interview. Every relationship. Every mirror.
They said it once. You said it ten thousand times.
The original cut was one sentence on one day from one person.
The infection is yours.
You've been reopening the wound daily with the same blade they used once.
They moved on. You didn't.
They forgot they said it. You memorized it.
They are living their life. You are living inside a sentence they threw away.
The cruelty was theirs. The continuation is yours.
Not your fault. But your responsibility.
Because nobody else is going to stop the repetition.
They cut you once. You've been cutting yourself with the same words ever since. The blade is in your hand now. Put it down.