The Garden That Grew

I wasn’t watered.
Not when I needed it most.
The sun played favorites,
the rain passed me by,
and the hands that should have pulled weeds
planted doubts instead.

They said I was too much,
too quiet,
too strange.
So I shrunk.
Made myself small enough to fit their version of love.
Even the soil turned against me —
dry, cracked, unfamiliar.

But still,
something in me refused to stay buried.
A whisper of green,
a root that knew its name.

I learned to grow in silence.
To reach for light
through concrete.

I bloomed in the shadows,
taught myself softness
in a world that only offered stone.

I was never supposed to survive,
let alone blossom.

But the garden grew anyway.
And I was the garden.

---

Author’s Note:

I wrote this for anyone who grew up neglected, dismissed, or told they were too much — and somehow still found a way to live, to heal, to become.

This piece is rooted in my own experience with abuse and emotional abandonment. I’ve been through seasons where I didn’t think I’d make it, but I did. Because somehow… the garden grew anyway.

And if you’re reading this — maybe yours is growing too.

Written for the “Quote Me Baby” challenge hosted by L.C. Schäfer on Vocal, inspired by the quote: “Life finds a way.”