LA PRIMA PERDIDA

You fit in everywhere. Every room, every group, every version of yourself they needed you to be. Amiga, the way you read what a room needs and become it is kind of uncanny. It's also the reason you don't know what you'd pick if nobody was watching.

The one who fit in everywhere and belonged nowhere.

Somewhere along the way, you learned that the real you wasn't enough for the room. Maybe the room was cold. Maybe the people in it only stayed when you were easy. So you started adjusting. A little funnier here. A little quieter there. And honestly? People stayed. Invitations kept coming. You just stopped being the same person in any two of them.

You're one person at work, another at dinner, another in the group chat. You laugh at different jokes depending on who's listening. You have opinions you've never said out loud because you're not sure which ones are actually yours. Babe, your whole personality is a mood board and you keep rearranging it depending on the audience.

Because the one time you stopped adjusting, someone left. Or someone looked confused. Or the room got quiet in a way that made your skin crawl. So your body learned to scan first and become second. Honestly, that's not being fake. That's someone who learned the price of being real was being alone. It just means you're never alone and never quite there either.

Amiga. You've been adjusting so long, the adjustment became the person. And somewhere under all the versions, there's one who's been waiting.

You fit in. Everywhere. That's not something to fix. That's range.
But range only matters if one of those rooms gets the real version.
What if you stopped adjusting for one conversation? Just to see who's actually there.