I’ve come to realize something heavy, something honest:
I’ve been my own sacrificial lamb.

Time and again, I’ve placed my goals, dreams, and desires on the backburner to show up for others. Not because I was asked to  but because I felt compelled. Because I know too well the sting of being overlooked, unsupported, or abandoned. So I made it my mission to be what I never had. To be solid. To be dependable. To be love in motion.

But here’s the truth I’m sitting with now:
That kind of selflessness, when left unchecked, becomes self-sacrifice.
And while showing up matters, so do I.

I’ve poured so much of myself into others that I often find my own cup empty… my dreams delayed… and the part of me that creates, the part that dreams in color and hears melodies in silence, begins to fade.
And that scares me.

Because when I’m not creating, I’m not fully alive.
Creating has always been my refuge. My therapy.
It’s the place where the words flow like water and my spirit finds peace. But lately? That space feels distant, foggy  buried beneath stress and the weight of other people’s expectations.

That kind of pressure doesn’t just tire the body.
It chokes the imagination.
It dulls the clarity.
It slowly smothers the spark.

And I refuse to let that part of me die.

I want to get back to the version of me where the music pours out  raw, honest, unfiltered. I want the pen to feel like freedom again, not like a burden I can’t lift. I want my happy place back. Because the longer I stay in survival mode, the harder it becomes to find that doorway to peace, passion, and purpose again.

So now, I’m learning to be more discerning.
Everyone is not worthy of my “pull up.”
Everyone is not entitled to my yes.
Because every misplaced yes is time stolen from my purpose.

Reclaiming my time, protecting my energy, and giving myself permission to be “selfish”  that’s the new walk. One intentional step at a time. Because my creativity deserves room to breathe. My spirit deserves joy. And my vision? It deserves my full attention.

I want to succeed not just to say I did it — but to feel what it means to live as my fullest self.
I want to create freely again.
I want to dream loudly again.
And I will.

Because I’m not just fighting for success 
I’m fighting for my wholeness.
I’m fighting for the artist in me who’s waiting to come back home.

Ron Royal