I’ve told you the stories. The nightmares come real. You’ve met some of the people who hurt me. You have stood next to me when my whole body was shaking.

You have held me in the night when my anxiety arises and I begin to question you, me, us.
You have held me in the night when I wake up from the nightmares.
You let me cry, share excitement, and yell.

After everything I’ve been through you look at me and still manage to make me believe what you tell me.
Despite your knowledge of my depression and anxiety you make me feel weightless around you.

You have always accepted me as I am. No push for me to change. You tell me I’m beautiful, smart, talented. For the first time in my life, I feel comfortable in my own skin.