Becoming

I’m not writing this to prove something to anybody
not to impress anyone either.
This is for me.
For the boy I was.
For the man I’m becoming.
For every time I sat there silent while people talked about me instead of to me.

They never asked. They assumed.
They never listened. They labeled.

"Lazy."
"Lost."
"Dumb."

Because I missed some school?
Because life got in the way, and I had to choose survival over attendance?
Man, you don’t know what I’ve had to carry just to wake up some mornings.
You don’t know the weight that made me skip days
not because I didn’t care
but because I cared too much and had no clue how to handle it.

But that doesn’t make me less.
That doesn’t make me broken.
That doesn’t make me slow or behind or anything you whisper when you think I’m not listening.
Truth is, you’re just scared of someone like me becoming what you said I couldn’t.

I’m still learning, yeah.
Still trying to rewire what trauma taught me to believe
that love has to hurt
that silence is strength
that pain has to be hidden
that asking for help is weakness.

I’m unlearning all of that.
Slowly.
Painfully.
Honestly.

See, people don’t know me, they cross me.
They smile in my face, then act different the moment I’m not looking.
But I peep.
I feel energy shift before words even form.
I don’t beg for loyalty anymore.
I watch for it.
And if I have to cut you off to find peace, I won’t flinch.
Call it cold if you want.
I call it stoic.
I call it survival.
Because I don’t have time for masks and half-love.
Not anymore.

There’s a fire in me now.
And it’s not just burning, it’s guiding.
I see it all clearer than I ever did before.
The Marine Corps, that’s my next chapter.
That’s structure.
Discipline.
Brotherhood.
That’s me building the kind of man I needed to be when I was younger.
That’s me saying, “I refuse to be average.”
Not because I need approval
but because I deserve greatness.
And I’m not waiting for anyone to hand it to me.

And yeah, I’ve heard the voices.
“I’d never fight for this country.”
And maybe I wouldn’t either not the system, not the flag, not the politics.
But I’ll fight for me.
For the boy who grew up dodging pain like bullets,
for the nights I felt like giving up but didn’t,
for the future I refuse to let slip through my hands.
I’m not enlisting to protect a place that never protected me.
I’m enlisting to protect my peace,
to sharpen my discipline,
to rise.
This ain’t about pledging to no nation this is about pledging to myself.
To become unshakable. Unbreakable. Untouchable.

Up until now, I was surviving off fumes.
Dragging trauma like it was a backpack I never chose to carry.
But something shifted.
It’s like my soul finally said, “Enough.”
Enough with being numb.
Enough with being silent.
Enough with holding back.

It’s time to become.
Not just someone.
But the version of me that doesn’t settle. That doesn’t fold. That doesn’t chase.
The version that leads.

I’m angry, yeah.
But I’m also hopeful.
I’m frustrated, hell yeah.
But I’m also focused.
I’ve been broken, sure.
But I’m not defeated.

Every scar taught me something.
Every loss was a class.
Every fake friend was a mirror.
Every missed opportunity lit a fire under me.
And now I’m using that fire to build.
To grow.
To become.

So no, you don’t know me.
But soon, you will.

Not because I need the world to clap
but because I finally stopped shrinking to fit into places that couldn’t hold my worth.

This isn’t the end of my story.
This is the beginning of my becoming.

Watch me.
Or don’t.
Either way, I’m going.

And I’m going all the way.

Authors note: To the ones whom feel that I’ve been distant towards. It’s all love to you, I love to see you winning.