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A él nadie le avisó que parte de crecer consistía en eliminar versiones suyas. Y que era hacerlo así, sin despedida ni discurso motivacional.

Un día se dio cuenta que ya no era aquel tipo chévere que decía sí a todo, el que se reía de los chistes que se burlaban de las cosas que le dolían, ya no era el que prefería quedar bien antes que quedar en paz.

Y no, no era por ser falso, era pura supervivencia.

Él hacía lo que podía con lo que tenía, simplemente se acomodaba para no incomodar. Aguantaba comentarios, se tragaba opiniones y se hacía invisible si hacía falta.

Durante años pensó que eso era ser buena gente, o maduro, o al menos fácil de aceptar Cuando empezó a poner límites llegaron los comentarios, oye estás diferente, ya no eres el mismo, antes eras más chévere.

Y ahí entendió algo bastante incómodo, ellos no extrañaban quién era él, ellos extrañaban lo fácil de manejar que fue.

Eliminar esas versiones no fue bonito, fue doloroso, hasta violento con el mismo. Descubrió que muchas cosas las hizo por miedo, que le ganó la necesidad de aprobación y que fue su propio traidor con tal de no quedarse solo.

Y lo peor es que nadie le obligó a hacerlo.

Lo más difícil ha sido no odiar al que fue, porque ese tipo inseguro también lo protegió, al menos hizo lo que pudo. Por eso no intenta borrarlo con rabia, solo quiere dejarlo ir.

Y aunque perdió relaciones que funcionaban solo con su antiguo yo, ganó algo muy valioso, ganó su espacio, y lo hizo sin pedir permiso.

Tal vez madurar era eso…

No eliminar para olvidar, sino eliminarse para dejar de traicionarse.

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Me gustaría invitarte a participar en esta dinámica diaria.

Puedes hacerlo aquí...

Invito a: @ungrancuento @silveiragca82 @lazzvi

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🇬🇧 English Version

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No one told him that part of growing up involved shedding versions of himself. And that it had to be done just like that, without a goodbye or a motivational speech.

One day he realized he was no longer that cool guy who said yes to everything, the one who laughed at jokes that made fun of the things that hurt him, the one who preferred to be liked rather than be at peace.

And no, it wasn't because he was fake, it was pure survival.

He did what he could with what he had, he simply adapted so as not to make anyone uncomfortable. He endured comments, swallowed opinions, and made himself invisible if necessary.

For years he thought that was being a good person, or mature, or at least easy to accept. When he started setting boundaries, the comments came: "Hey, you're different, you're not the same anymore, you used to be cooler."

And that's when he understood something quite uncomfortable: they didn't miss who he was, they missed how easy he was to manage.

Erasing those versions of himself wasn't easy; it was painful, even violent. He discovered that he did many things out of fear, that his need for approval got the better of him, and that he betrayed himself to avoid being alone.

And the worst part is that no one forced him to do it.

The hardest part has been not hating the person he was, because that insecure version also protected him, or at least did what he could. That's why he doesn't try to erase him with anger; he just wants to let him go.

And although he lost relationships that only worked with his old self, he gained something very valuable: he gained his own space, and he did it without asking permission.

Perhaps that's what growing up was all about…

Not erasing to forget, but erasing yourself to stop betraying yourself.

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I'd like to invite you to participate in this daily activity.

You can do it here…

I invite: @ungrancuento @silveiragca82 @lazzvi