you're on your own, kid.

it’s only up to a point that you are raised.

what happens after that?

you grow up.

and no one really tells you when that happens.

maybe it's the night you realize no one's gonna check on you if whether you got home safe.

maybe it's the morning your coffee tastes more like survival than comfort.

but it happens.

suddenly, you’re not being told what to do.

you’re just expected to know.

how to feel. how to stay calm. how to move on. how to 'be okay'.

and you start seeing people for what and who they are.

not heroes. not villains.

just people.

flawed. tired. trying.

your parents become stories you understand backwards.

your friends become mirrors, and some of them crack.

and you?

you become quieter. 

not because you’ve got nothing to say,
but because you’ve figured out and learned what’s worth saying.

growing up isn’t some grand revelation.

it’s subtle. might even be boring.
it’s bills. it’s boundaries.
it’s choosing peace over proving a point.
it’s crying without needing to be seen.

and sometimes, it’s sitting in your room at 3:17am thinking:

“damn. so this is it.”

but you wipe your face.
you take a breath.
and you keep going.

because no one’s raising you anymore.

but you?

you’re still growing.

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