08/25/2026
The Things I Want to Remember About Who I Am
Copyright Elizabeth Oleksa 2026
Sometimes I need to remember who I really am.
Not who someone else says I am.
Not who I become when I am exhausted, disappointed, hurt, afraid, or questioning myself.
Not the mistakes I have made.
Not the moments when I have wondered whether I am enough.
I need to remember the woman underneath all of that.
The woman who has always been there.
I am a woman who loves deeply.
I do not know how to love halfway.
When someone becomes important to me, they become important to my heart. I care about what happens to them. I remember the details. I listen for the things they do not say. I celebrate their happiness. I hurt when they hurt.
That is not weakness.
That is capacity.
I have a heart that has survived being broken and still chooses to love.
That is strength.
I am loyal.
When I give someone my friendship, I do not give them a temporary version of me. I give them my presence, my honesty, my laughter, my encouragement, and my willingness to stand beside them when life becomes difficult.
I am dependable.
I may not always have the perfect words, but I will show up.
I am curious.
I want to know people beyond the surface. I want to understand what shaped them, what makes them laugh, what they dream about, what they fear, and what makes their hearts beat a little faster.
I believe people are more than the worst thing they have ever done.
I believe people can grow.
I believe people can change.
I believe tomorrow can be different from yesterday.
And I need to remember that this includes me.
I am resilient.
I have walked through things that could have convinced me to become bitter.
Instead, I kept looking for meaning.
I kept searching for light.
I kept finding reasons to move forward.
I have had to learn how to begin again more than once, and every time I thought I was finished, some part of me whispered, Keep going.
I listened.
I am brave.
Not because I am never afraid.
I am brave because fear has never been enough to make me stop living.
I have learned that courage does not always roar.
Sometimes courage is getting out of bed.
Sometimes it is trying again.
Sometimes it is saying no.
Sometimes it is saying yes.
Sometimes it is admitting that something hurts.
Sometimes it is letting someone help me.
Sometimes it is walking into a completely unfamiliar situation and trusting that I will figure it out.
I am independent.
I have learned how to navigate a world that I cannot physically see.
But my independence is not simply about what I can accomplish by myself.
It is knowing myself well enough to recognize when I can do something alone and when allowing someone beside me makes the journey better.
I am teachable.
I do not have to know everything.
I can listen.
I can learn.
I can change my mind.
I can grow.
I can apologize.
I can begin again.
That does not diminish me.
It makes me human.
I am passionate.
When something matters to me, it matters completely.
I throw myself into the things I believe in.
I care about people.
I care about animals.
I care about possibility.
I care about helping someone realize that their circumstances do not have to become the boundaries of their life.
I care about words.
I care about stories.
I care about the difference one person’s encouragement can make in another person’s life.
I am a dreamer.
I still believe beautiful things can happen.
I still believe in unexpected beginnings.
I still believe that life can surprise us.
I still believe that there are chapters I have not even imagined yet.
I am playful.
I laugh.
I get excited.
I can be silly.
I can turn an ordinary moment into something memorable simply because I am willing to enjoy it.
I am sensitive.
And I need to stop apologizing for that.
Feeling deeply allows me to experience beauty deeply.
It allows me to notice what others sometimes miss.
It allows me to connect.
It allows me to empathize.
It allows me to love with my entire heart.
My sensitivity is not something I need to overcome.
It is one of the ways I experience the world.
I am perceptive.
I may not see someone’s expression, but I listen.
I hear the hesitation in a voice.
I notice when laughter sounds different.
I sense when something has shifted.
I have learned to pay attention to the things that cannot always be seen.
I am grateful.
Not because everything in my life has been easy.
It has not.
But because I have learned that gratitude does not require perfection.
There can be pain and gratitude in the same heart.
There can be grief and joy in the same day.
There can be uncertainty and hope standing beside each other.
I am a survivor, but I do not want survival to be the only word used to describe me.
I am more than what I have survived.
I am what I have built afterward.
I am the laughter that returned.
I am the dreams that grew again.
I am the love I continued to give.
I am the lessons I carried forward.
I am the woman who kept becoming.
I am a friend.
I am a daughter.
I am a mother.
I am family.
I am a teacher in ways I never expected to be.
I am a listener.
I am an encourager.
I am a storyteller.
I am someone who wants other people to recognize their own worth.
And sometimes, I need someone to remind me of mine.
I am not perfect.
I have rough edges.
I have moments when I overthink.
I have moments when I doubt myself.
I can be stubborn.
I can care too much.
I can give too much.
I can expect too much from myself.
I can forget that I am allowed to rest.
I can forget that I do not have to earn love by constantly proving my worth.
So this is my reminder:
I do not have to accomplish something extraordinary today to be extraordinary.
I do not have to make everyone happy to be worthy of love.
I do not have to be strong every minute to be strong.
I do not have to have all the answers.
I do not have to shrink myself so someone else can feel comfortable.
I do not have to apologize for taking up space in this world.
I am allowed to be exactly as human as everyone else.
I am allowed to laugh.
I am allowed to cry.
I am allowed to need.
I am allowed to want.
I am allowed to dream.
I am allowed to change.
I am allowed to outgrow people, places, beliefs, and versions of myself that no longer fit.
And I am allowed to be proud of the woman I have become.
So if someone asks me what it is like to have me in their life, I hope the answer is simple.
I will love you.
I will challenge you.
I will encourage you.
I will laugh with you.
I will listen to you.
I will believe in you.
I will remind you of your light when you cannot find it yourself.
But perhaps the most important part of this list is the part I need to remember for myself.
I deserve to receive the same love I so freely give.
I deserve the same patience I offer others.
I deserve the same grace.
I deserve the same encouragement.
I deserve to be celebrated.
And when I forget who I am, I want to come back to these words.
Because underneath every disappointment, every fear, every difficult chapter, every mistake, every scar, and every question I have ever carried, there is still me.
And I am still here.
Still loving.
Still learning.
Still growing.
Still dreaming.
Still becoming.
Still choosing light.
Still choosing hope.
Still choosing love.
And maybe that is the truest thing I can ever say about who I am.
I have never stopped becoming the woman I was meant to be.