The Thought of Running

The Thought of Running

Every girl, at least once,

has stared out a window and imagined the wind

lifting her away

from the walls that call themselves home.

Not because love was absent,

but because freedom was.

Because the air inside felt borrowed,

and her choices felt rehearsed

in someone else’s script.

They taught her to serve before she could speak,

to smile before she could choose,

to carry dreams she never dreamed,

and call it duty.

She read books where girls ran wild,

on horses, on highways,

across borders of fear—

and somewhere deep inside,

a quiet voice whispered,

“You could go too.”

Not all who run leave with bags;

some run inside,

carving freedom in silence,

hiding rebellion behind a polite nod,

saving pieces of themselves

for a life that’s truly theirs.

Some run with passports,

others with poems tucked in the folds of their soul,

hoping one day,

they'll breathe in a world

that doesn't shrink them to fit.

She doesn’t want to abandon love—

she wants to find herself within it.

She doesn’t want to shatter bonds—

just build one with her own voice first.

To run is not to escape,

but to arrive—

at the door of her own becoming.

So yes,

every girl has thought of running,

not from home,

but toward something

that finally feels like home.