Tell us about a time when you felt out of place.
I remember sitting there in a room full of laughter, voices bouncing like music, and still feeling invisible. Everyone seemed connected, like bright threads weaving together, but I was just… dangling at the edge. Smiling so no one would ask, but inside I was screaming.
Friendship wasn’t supposed to feel like this. It was supposed to be safe, warm, and soft. Instead, it felt like glass breaking beneath me—cold, sharp, cutting me open in places no one could see.
I reached out. Not for pity. Not because I wanted to be rescued. Just for someone to notice. Just for someone to steady me. But there was only silence. And when the replies finally came, they were empty—dressed up as excuses, but all they really said was: you don’t matter enough.
It broke me. It truly did. Because how can people you thought cared about you look away when you’re falling?
It hurt like betrayal. Like being the song, no one sings anymore. Like being the empty chair no one misses. Like being the story, everyone stops reading before the ending
And I thought maybe it was me. Maybe I’m too much. Maybe I’m not worth the effort. Maybe I’m always the one asking and never the one being chosen.
But then I realized something—falling out of place doesn’t mean I’m unworthy of love. It doesn’t mean I am less. It means I was sitting in the wrong circle. Around people who didn’t know the value of what they had.
Yes, it shattered me. But slowly, I’m learning that broken things still shine. And one day, I’ll find the friends who lean in, the ones who don’t measure or delay, the ones who hear my silence louder than my words
So yes—it hurt. God, it hurt. But pain has a way of clearing the fog. And through the ache, I found my ground again
And now, even standing alone… I know I was never truly lost.
MEDMIMI 