I Thought Leaving Would Feel Like Freedom.

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  After a month, everything seems so normal and dull... as if nothing ever happened. I am happy, but I feel empty. I waited for this for the longest time... three years and counting. I honestly did not like how I left things. It felt rushed. It felt sad. And honestly, if I could go back in time... I would probably do it the same way. I can't help but blame myself for leaving a toxic environment. I was suffering. Scars have been drawn on my body. Unwanted habits have now become normal for me. I feel restless. I am exhausted. I am tired, yet I feel like I don't deserve sleep. Why, though? I only left because I was tired of being exploited. I want to be selfish. I want to put myself first. I have been nothing but a dirty doormat. My mind, soul, and body crave peace and sleep, but I feel like the moment I lay down, I will fall behind. Am I over exaggerating my grief? Or am I trying to convince myself that leaving was the wrong step? I feel lonely. I don't crave people to intera...

The Unholy Girl Gospel

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Disclaimer:

Unholy Girl Gospel is a personal opinion series.

 Everything shared here reflects my own views, feelings, and lived experiences at the time of writing. 

These posts are not official statements, factual reports, or personal attacks they are expressions of my perspective.

 I do not claim to speak for all women, all people, or any community. 

The thoughts I share are meant for open discussion, not harassment or hate toward individuals. 

Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental unless clearly and explicitly named.

I acknowledge that my tone can be blunt, bold, and direct. That is intentional. 

These pieces are for mature readers who understand that not all content will align with their beliefs or comfort zone.

By choosing to read, you accept that this is opinion‑based content and that you are free to disagree respectfully❤️‍🩹.

 If this is not the type of conversation you’re open to, please exit without engaging💋🔥

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