they praised the version of me i rehearsed daily

I was good at it.
The job. The conversations. The smile. The version.

I learned the script.
Got fluent in what they needed.
Showed up with the right energy, the right answers, the right tone.

And I got praised for it.
Respected. Relied on. Admired.

But also…
Exhausted. Confused. Gone.

Because the more fluent I became at the role,
the more disconnected I felt from myself.
And the worse part?
Even I started to believe it was me.

Not because I wanted to.
Because it worked.

And when something works,
even when it hurts —
you don’t know if you're allowed to leave it behind.

Especially when it’s all anyone knows of you.
Especially when they call it “your gift.”

But being good at something
doesn’t mean you owe it your identity.

✧ quiet prompt:

What part of your daily life feels like a practiced role, not a reflection?

🌒 Next layer:

→ read: the role you became to survive → chapter: underneath