A Love Letter to Women Who Are Done Apologizing

This is for the woman

who finally deleted "sorry"

from her vocabulary

like an overused emoji—

worn out and meaningless.

This is for the hands

that have held too many oceans

of other people’s tears

while their own storms

went unnamed.

This is for the mouth

that’s bitten back words

like "no" and "enough"

so many times

the taste of blood

became familiar.

This is for the mornings

you wake up and decide:

Today, I will not shrink.

Today, I take up space

like a hurricane

unapologetic in its path.

This is for the nights

you stare at the ceiling

counting regrets like sheep—

then burn them all

in one glorious fuck this

bonfire.

This is for the moment

you realize "selfish"

is just a word

thrown at women

who dare to

breathe

first.

So take up space, darling.

Be the unedited version

of yourself.

The world has had enough

of your silence.

Now—let it choke

on your roar.

Break down of the peom

I.

This is for the "difficult" women.

The ones who say "no"

and watch the world short-circuit -

its gears grinding,

its smile faltering,

its "but you've always said yes before!"

dangling like a broken marionette string.

II.

This is for the quiet quitters

of emotional labor:

The birthday-rememberers turned forgetters,

The calendar-keepers letting dates slip like sand,

The "let's just pick somewhere" women

now answering "I don't care" with a shrug

that tastes like freedom.

III.

This is for the bodies

no longer apologizing for their space:

Hips that don't suck in,

Armpits gone feral,

Stretch marks mapping rebellions

against impossible standards.

IV.

This is for the voice

finding its register below a scream -

Not honeyed, not palatable,

just unvarnished truth

in its work boots,

ready to build new worlds

from the rubble of "shoulds."

V.

Darling, let them call you selfish.

Self-ish.

A whole damn self,

no longer a fragment

waiting for permission

to exist.

Thank you for reading, warrior.

If this poem resonated with you—let it travel. Like, share, and scream it from your chest. Follow for more unapologetic truth-telling.