I Carry Myself is a lyrical song about recognizing the strength it took to survive the moments when no one else seemed to be there to carry you.
 
It comes from the realization that through trauma, PTSD, grief, loss, being unheard, and having your truth dismissed, there was one person who remained through all of it:
 
You.
 
This song doesn't romanticize having to survive alone. There were times when support was needed. Times when someone should have listened. Times when someone should have stood beside you. Times when simply hearing “I believe you” could have mattered enormously.
 
But when that support wasn't there, somehow you kept going.
 
I carried myself.
I carried my history.
I carried my scars.
 
I carried my truth.
I carried my voice.
I carried my grief.
 
I carried my mother's memory.
I carried the experiences I eventually put into books and transformed into music.
And I carried the person I was becoming through all of it.
 
But I Carry Myself also marks an important change.
 
Learning to carry yourself does not mean agreeing to carry everybody else.
 
Strength is not an invitation for people to place their responsibilities on your shoulders.
 
Survival does not make you the family caretaker.
 
Experience with advocacy does not make you the family advocate.
 
And knowing how to fight does not mean every battle belongs to you.
 
There is tremendous power in finally recognizing the difference:
 
I can carry myself without carrying you.
 
My strength belongs to me.
 
My energy belongs to me.
 
My boundaries belong to me.
 
My life belongs to me.
 
Now, carrying myself means something different.
 
It means listening to my body.
 
Protecting my peace.
 
Creating my music.
 
Writing my truth.
 
Honoring what I have survived without allowing survival to become my only identity.
 
And choosing carefully what deserves a place in the life I am building.
 
I Carry Myself is not a declaration that I never needed anyone.
 
It is an acknowledgment that when I looked back at everything I had survived, I discovered something undeniable:
 
I was still here.
 
Still creating.
Still speaking.
Still becoming.
Still me.
 
And now I get to decide what I carry forward.
 
My story.
My voice.
My truth.
My boundaries.
My peace.
My life.
 
I carry myself.
 
And that is enough.