By Elle Ward
For the first time in my life, I feel seen.
I feel heard.
I’ve stepped completely out of my comfort zone, sharing my experiences, my truths, my pain.
After years of hiding, I’ve finally stopped pretending to be someone I’m not. I’ve let the mask fall.
And I’m proud of that. I truly am.
But even now — even in this space of honesty and healing — there’s still a quiet ache I carry.
🖤 Pride and the Ache That Follows
I have no regrets about the decisions I’ve made since coming home.
I am proud — deeply proud — of how far I’ve come.
I’m becoming someone I can live with.
Someone I don’t entirely hate when I look in the mirror.
I’ve repaired relationships I thought were broken forever.
I’ve grown in ways I never thought possible.
And yet… I miss my old life.
Not because I want to go back to it.
Not because I think it was good for me.
But because leaving it behind meant leaving so many people behind too.
And that part? That part hurts.
💔 Loyalty That Wasn’t Returned
I didn’t realise how quickly people would give up on me.
I didn’t expect to be cut out so quietly.
To no longer fit into the lives of people I once would’ve done anything for.
I’ve always considered myself loyal — sometimes to a fault.
If you’re in my life, I will go to the ends of the earth for you.
It’s been hard to accept that, for many, the feeling wasn’t mutual.
I know I speak a lot about how leaving my old life behind saved me — and I stand by that.
But I don’t think I ever prepared myself for the loneliness that came with it.
👣 Shifting Roles and Identities
I love my family. I love being a mum.
And I am endlessly grateful for the people who have stayed.
But here’s the truth:
I’ve never had the kind of relationship with my parents that I have now — and as healing as that is, it’s also difficult.
We all played a part in what went wrong before.
And just because we’re closer now doesn’t mean the past didn’t happen. It did. And it left scars.
And with Archie — he is my world.
He’s my reason for getting up in the morning.
But I’ve never been someone who only identified as a mum.
I’ve always had my own identity, my own space. Sometimes I clung to that space too hard — but it still matters.
Losing parts of yourself, even for good reasons, can still feel suffocating.
👭 From Many to Few
I used to think I had loads of friends.
But when things fell apart, it became clear how few were really there.
Now, I can count my friends on one hand — and I adore them.
But that doesn’t mean it doesn’t hurt.
It doesn’t mean the loneliness isn’t real.
🕳️ The Ache That Remains
So yes, I’m proud.
Yes, I’ve taken off the mask and laid myself bare.
Yes, I’m growing and healing and finally telling the truth.
But there’s still this ache in my stomach.
There are still nights when I cry.
There are still moments when I long to be the old me — or at least to feel like she mattered.
It’s confusing.
It’s sometimes heartbreaking.
I never realised how easily forgotten I could be.
And I never knew how much that would hurt.
— What About Now
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