tell the crows, darling

You've spent enough time trying to explain yourself to people who already decided who you were.

So... stop.

Stop chasing understanding from people committed to misunderstanding you. Stop carrying the impossible burden of convincing people that your heart is good, your intentions are pure, or your soul is worthy. The people who demand an explanation were never truly listening in the first place.

But the crows...
The crows know.

They watched you long before the world began forming opinions. They remember the girl who wandered through golden fields with sunlight tucked into her pockets. They remember every tear no one saw, every quiet kindness that went unnoticed, every time you chose softness in a world that praised hardness.

They know your worth was never something you had to earn.
It was always there.

The world measured you by the chapters they happened to witness... the mistakes, the triumphs, the seasons of survival. They built entire stories from a few scattered pages.

But the crows remember the whole book.

They remember your tenderness when no one thanked you for it. Your courage when no one applauded. Your love when it wasn't returned. They remember the goodness you carried, even when no one else was looking.

They know a soul doesn't become worthy.

A soul simply is.

The crows have always carried the stories the wind couldn't keep. They gather forgotten truths, whispered prayers, quiet resilience, and every beautiful piece of you the world overlooked. They never ask you to defend your heart because they've already seen it with their own eyes.

They know.

So let them gossip.
Let them misunderstand.
Let them tell stories stitched together from fragments they were never meant to hold.

You don't have to shrink yourself into something easier to understand. You don't have to dim yourself to be supported. You don't have to prove your softness. You don't have to convince anyone that you're deserving of love, respect, or peace.

You always were.

The people meant for you will never require an explanation. They'll recognize your heart the way the crows always have.

Tell the crows, darling.
They've always known your heart.