rewriting my own movie

a poem written in my notes app, built on the new routine of getting up and readying the pool I work at 5:30am. it’s a routine i’m getting used to, and i’m starting to love.

♡

what happens in the quiet of my thoughts?
the way i’ve started to admire the early mornings—
how still everything is, how i can actually hear myself think.
the music in my headphones, soft and subtle,
usually movie soundtracks, or light touch of a piano.

i walk around listening to them like i’m not even real,
like the camera’s following me—
third-person view, soft focus.
and the song isn’t from the movie it came from anymore.
it’s mine now.
my scene.
my life.
and i start to wonder what the audience would say about me.

like—if i’m feeling good about how i look,
they’d be fawning.
laughing, flirting, taking photos.
but if i’m not?
then they’d pick me apart.
comment on my body, call me a fraud,
say my work’s hollow, that i’m pretending.
pretending to know what i’m doing.
pretending to be okay.

and suddenly, i’m seeing myself through their eyes—
but it’s still my voice narrating.
i imagine what kind of episode it’d be that day.
would anyone even care to watch it?
would the pacing be slow?
would they get bored during the chore montage?
would they skip over the part where i stood in the kitchen
and just tried to breathe?

or would i be the only one watching?
just me.
and if it is just me—what would i say?

would i notice the little things about myself
that i always get caught up on,
or would i be proud?
would i see the strength in my steps,
the way i keep moving,
even when it hurts?

because just standing here,
doing something with my life,
making it through all the choices i’ve made—
the ones built on gut and heart and morality—
it hasn’t drowned me.
not yet.

i live.
and honestly?
that might be the most powerful thing.

and it’s that spite.
that refusal to give in.
that’s what the movie is really about.
not the sad parts or the glamorous parts—
but the fire underneath it all.
the part of me that said:
no. we’re not dying here. not like this.

i’m no longer the undiscovered girl
posed behind layers of mirrors,
reflecting back whatever they wanted to see.
no longer hidden in skin
i didn’t feel belonged to me.

i filled out my body with love.
with curiosity.
with the will to live honestly.
to take up space.

and piece by piece, i took it all back:
my body.
my soul.
my mind.
my peace.

i redirected all that love i used to pour into surviving
towards her.
towards me.
towards the life i actually wanted.

and yeah, it’s cost me a lot.
some relationships didn’t survive the truth.
but i don’t regret any of it.

because now, i don’t revolve around a narcissist.
i don’t orbit an enabling family.
i just move forward.

i thrive.
in ways i never thought i could.
i’ve taken steps
i didn’t know my legs could take.

and the strength i built just to survive—
i use it now
to live.

and for the first time,
life doesn’t feel like it’s crushing me.
it feels like it fits.

and little did i know—
that living for myself,
even for just a sliver of my time here,
would let me become the woman i am now.

strong-willed.
truthful.
real.

and the best part?

i’ve got my own back.
always have.
she’s the critic, the director, the main character.
and i’d rather be loved by her
than applauded by anyone else.

🎬 and scene

credits
written & directed by me.
thank you for watching.