Setting Yourself on Fire

You do not have to set yourself on fire to keep someone else warm.

- Penny Reid

Let’s talk about what happens
when you set yourself on fire
to keep someone else warm.

It happens under the guise of love.
You put them first, and they let you.
You teach them how to treat you:
 to look past you,
 around you,
 through you.

Your light and substance begin to fade:
 the fibers of your heart,
 the grit in your bones,
 the essence of your story.

You become thin - so very thin.
A whisper can tear you in two.

And then someone asks, How are you?
And you hear yourself say:
Me? I don’t know how to answer that question.

Because you don’t know.
You’ve replaced yourself with someone else.
And it’s not just that you aren’t living your life,
it’s that you aren’t living any life at all.

We all know:
 Love is not neglect.
 It’s not servitude.
 It’s not putting yourself last until you vanish.
 It is not giving up your dreams for someone else’s needs.
 Not agreeing to their version of reality while yours slowly suffocates.

We know this. No one needs to tell us.
And still, we do it.

We agree, allow, participate
in our own slow evaporation.

But let this be our reminder.
No, our encouragement:

Even if you’ve vanished
until only the salt of your tears remains,
there is still hope.

It won’t come easy.
The people you’ve been keeping warm
will feel the cold.
And so will you.

But if you want to reach the other side,
the dream of your life,
and all the magic waiting there,
you have to warm your own soul
with the fire of your self-love.

Because that’s where true healing starts.

Because you have to save the only life you can save.
Your own.

Writing Prompt:

Write about a time you made yourself small for someone else’s comfort. What did it cost you? What would it look like to take up space again — slowly, bravely, as yourself?