I Donβt Want to Be Chosen Anymoreβ¦. I Want to Choose
This is not arrogance, this is arrival
I remember when I loved waiting to be picked by love and life, to be seen and understood, to be enough, to believe I mattered.
I became fluent in the art of waiting:
Sitting quietly in corners life never designed for me.
Making myself smaller to look more desirable.
Silencing my questions to appear easier to love.
Diluting my presence to keep others comfortable.
But waiting to be chosen is a dangerous addiction. Itβs a betrayal of self.
Every time you wait to be picked, you abandon the part of you that knows you were never meant to queue for what already lives within you.
It breeds a life of near-misses and silent resentments. Because when you live to be picked, you forget you have a choice.
I spent years auditioning for rooms that didnβt deserve me.
Praying to be chosen for opportunities misaligned with my calling.
Begging love to stay when my spirit already felt suffocated in their presence.
Until one day, something within me shatteredβ¦. or maybe it finally cracked me open.
A voice came from within, whispering like revelation:
βI donβt want to be chosen anymore. I want to choose.β
To choose who gains access to my life.
To choose the paths that honor my wholeness, not just my usefulness.
To choose what rhythms my days are built upon.
To choose what success means for me, not the borrowed definitions of a world obsessed with image over impact.
I am not a product on a shelf, waiting for someone to find me useful.
I am not a pawn in someoneβs game of half-lived love.
I am not an empty vessel to be filled by external validation.
I am the author.
I am the artist.
I am the one who chooses.
βπ When I choose, I rise above the silent competitions I never signed up for.
βπ When I choose, I become the very space I was waiting to be invited into.
βπ When I choose, I stop measuring my worth by how many people pick me.
Success doesnβt pick me. I define it.
Love doesnβt validate me. I embody it.
Life doesnβt grant me permission. I claim it by being fully alive.
This is not arrogance. This is arrival.
The arrival into my own life with an unshakable knowing:
I donβt need to be chosen to be worthy.
I donβt need to be wanted to be whole.
I donβt need to be picked to belong.
I belong because I exist.
I am worthy because I breathe.
I am loved because I stand rooted in my own truth.
I did not come here to be picked. I came here to choose what aligns with my soul.
Reflection π§ββοΈ
β° Where in your life are you waiting to be chosen instead of choosing?
β° What would shift if you stopped seeking permission and started reclaiming your power to choose?
β° Does this resonate with you today ?
Share this with someone who needs to remember their power to choose.
If youβre done waiting to be picked and ready to build a life youβve chosen deeply, intentionally, and entirely yoursβ¦. Subscribe now and join this journey back to self.
You are not here to sit in waiting rooms for a life thatβs already yours. You are here to rise, to choose, to claim β again and again β until your becoming feels like coming home.
With love,
Becky
This is why I am most content in the presence of myself.
Alone is definitely not lonely.
π§‘π₯
This resonates a lot with my journey right now, thank you for sharing π€