30 Days of Radical Honesty Journalling Challenge – Day 19: Where Do I Still Long To Be Chosen, And By Whom?

For most of my life, I longed to be chosen.

Not plucked from a crowd or held above anyone else—just seen. Just known. Just held in someone's gaze and understood for exactly who I am, without being asked to perform or shrink or become someone else.

For so, so many years, the ache came from one place: my father. I didn’t want to replace anyone. I didn’t need to be the favourite. I just wanted to be chosen for me. I wanted him to see me. To know me. To decide I was enough.

But family fractures have a way of clearing the fog.

And somewhere in the middle of one of the most intense emotional seasons of my life, something in me snapped.

Not in a collapse. In a clarity.

Why was I waiting to be chosen by someone who never looked for me? Why was I still stretching out my hand across a table where I was only ever offered scraps? Why was I begging to be seen by someone who spent years squinting in my direction and calling it love?

I’m done with that.

And what a gift it is to be done.

I no longer feel the pull to be chosen by people or things that don’t choose me back. That don’t want to see me. I no longer chase connection that must be begged for. I’m just being me. Doing what I love. Living inside a life I built with my own hands and heart.

And it is blissful.

What I didn’t expect was the way this shift cracked something open. It was like a dam breaking. Suddenly, the words just pour out of me. Unstuck. Unstifled. Unapologetic. Writing has always lived inside me, but now it’s gushing. It moves through me with a wildness and purpose that feels divine. And it’s because I stopped gripping so hard to the things that never chose me.

Now, I choose me.

And that, it turns out, was all I ever needed.

Peace, Love, and Inspiration,
~Britt Wolfe💚