recognition

months feel like years

when i look back at a version of me

that needed to be seen to feel real.


i needed recognition like oxygen.

my center used to live outside my body.

in reactions.

in responses.

in who noticed.


i learned —

but i learned hard.


recognition doesn’t arrive when you chase it.

it arrives when you stop organizing your life around it.

when you see yourself so clearly

that applause becomes background noise.


that’s the paradox.

the moment i stopped needing to be recognized

was the moment it started happening.


people say my name differently now.

they look longer.

they speak slower.

they congratulate me.


and none of it moves my center.


because my worth isn’t waiting on confirmation anymore.

it’s already accounted for.


my paperwork is finished.


i’m not auditioning.

i’m not submitting applications to be believed.

i’m not explaining my trajectory.


what’s happening now isn’t feeding me —

it’s catching up.


recognition used to be the fuel.

now it’s just a receipt.


i don’t get taller when i’m praised.

i don’t shrink when i’m not.

my sense of self doesn’t fluctuate with attention.


that’s how i know it’s real.


i recognize myself first.

everything else is just echo. 


— Mr. Mak


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