Maybe I miss you all more than I should. I probably shouldn't be doubting myself as much as I am, but I have to admit that I'm scared. I'm scared, and it was comfortable, and right now, I'm craving comfort. But what was it that I said before, that I wrote? Be comfortable being uncomfortable, because how are you supposed to grow otherwise?
Sometimes I wonder if seeing myself through someone else would be better. I see all of these wonderful people around me, and can't help but feel like an impostor. But when did we reach the point at which self-worth was measured by any extrinsic factor, by friends, by likes, by the length of a resume? A perfect profile picture or an Instagram-worthy apartment? But when did I, personally, reach the point at which my self-worth could be measured by the length of a spatula?
I'm not ready to be an adult.
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