Table for One - Please.

"If they don't appreciate what you bring to the table, let them eat alone. Don’t let yourself be a slave to loyalty," she whispered to herself, the words heavy with realization.

For years, she had poured her heart into every relationship, every friendship, every bond that she thought was unbreakable. She was the one who always showed up, always cared, always gave. She brought more than just food to the table; she brought love, understanding, and a quiet strength that held everything together.

But as the years passed, she noticed a pattern, her seat at the table was never truly hers. They took what she offered, devouring her kindness without ever acknowledging the effort it took to serve it. They consumed her love, leaving nothing but crumbs of gratitude in return. And every time she felt overlooked, she told herself to be loyal, to stay because loyalty was the glue that held relationships together.

But loyalty, she realized, was not supposed to be a chain around her neck, dragging her down into the depths of self-sacrifice. It wasn't supposed to be a silent consent to being taken for granted. Loyalty should be a bond, not a burden, and if it became the latter, it was time to let go.

One evening, as she sat at the table, surrounded by the familiar faces of those who had come to expect her unwavering presence, she felt a stirring deep within. The food was plentiful, the conversations loud, but something was missing, her sense of belonging.

She looked around and saw it clearly for the first time. She was not truly a part of this table. She was merely the one who set it, who filled it with warmth, while everyone else took without giving. Her loyalty had become a habit, not a choice, and it was draining her spirit.

With a deep breath, she pushed back her chair and stood up. The chatter continued as if she hadn't moved, as if her absence was insignificant. But in that moment, she knew it wasn't. It was everything.

Without a word, she walked away from the table. The silence that followed her exit was deafening, but she didn't look back. She left behind the expectations, the unspoken demands, and the weight of being the one who always stayed.

She stepped outside, into the cool night air, and for the first time in a long while, she felt light, unburdened. She realized that dining alone wasn't a curse, but a choice - a choice to value herself above those who didn't.

In her solitude, she found strength. She set a new table, one where she was both the guest and the host, where every dish was seasoned with self-love and every seat was reserved for those who truly appreciated her.

And as she sat down, a quiet smile on her lips, she knew that leaving that old table behind was the best thing she had ever done. She had reclaimed her worth, her peace, and most importantly, her loyalty - the loyalty to herself.