Flying-thoughts - Just Derya

I like to help. But sometimes I also want help.

I'm good at giving.

I listen, I'm there, I support, I carry.

It makes me happy when I can do someone good.

But deep inside me there is also a desire:

For someone to be there for me.

Not because I have fallen.

Not because I'm strong.

But simply because sometimes I don't know what to do.

I want to learn to accept help - without

without feeling bad about it.

Without having to give back straight away.

Without thinking about whether I'm asking too much.

I want to trust.

That I don't have to do anything to be kept.

Foça is a town and district in Turkey's İzmir Province, on the Aegean coast.

Emotional Border Letter - Derya's promise to herself

You don't need to understand anymore.

It's not for you to weigh, measure, question the feelings I'm experiencing.

I opened up to you, I wanted you to hear my voice.

But every time you tried to pull me into your story.

By ignoring my story.

Now I am silent. But this is not a defeat.

This silence is not an escape.

It's a limit.

It's my right to protect myself.

It's my right to choose my inner peace.

This is my determination to stand on my own side from now on.

Keep everything that is rightfully yours.

I will no longer carry burdens that are not mine.

I let go of guilt, obligation, shame.

Because I want to walk only with my essence.

I owe only my own heart.

And now I pay that debt:

I forgive, love and protect myself.

This is my inner farewell letter.

Not to you, but to myself, whom I have silenced in the past.

I exist now.

And that's how I'm okay.

-Derya

I just can't keep my mouth shut 🥹

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YETER ARTIK BİZ YAZMAKTAN YORULDUK.

Asikan

Everything always starts with you.

I saw a miracle today and it was this. I had already given up hope but after 2 years with only one withered leaf I get my new flower. This means a lot to me because it shows me that you shouldn't give up too quickly and just take care of it and the shoot will give you a new flower.

Source - Butch/Femme edited by M.G Soares

SAN – the silence before I speak.

AIRMADE – the wings I built from database queries.

93726.3… the exact altitude where my fear of flying turns into fuel. (Ask me about the code, but whisper – the stars are listening.)