Take Me: Sorry for Taking Up Space in Your Feed
An ode to vulnerability, visibility, and the quiet courage of showing up.
Take me where the scroll never stops and the silence between posts feels like a sigh. Where someone, somewhere, hesitates before hitting “share,” whispering, Sorry for taking up space in your feed. As if their story were a burden. As if their presence needed permission.
Take me into that moment—the pause before posting. The photo is real. The caption is raw. The heart behind it is trembling. And yet, they post it anyway. Because sometimes, taking up space is the bravest thing you can do.
Let me walk through the gallery of those photos in the comments. Each one a fragment of a life unfolding. A scar shown. A smile reclaimed. A body once hidden now bathed in light. These aren’t just images—they’re testimonies. They say: I exist. I matter. I’m here.
Take me into the full story. The one that doesn’t fit neatly into a caption. The one that spills out in late-night drafts and unsent messages. Maybe it’s a journey through grief. Maybe it’s a triumph over shame. Maybe it’s just a quiet celebration of surviving another day. Whatever it is, it’s worthy. And it deserves space.
Let the algorithm blink. Let the likes trickle in or stay silent. This isn’t about engagement—it’s about expression. It’s about reclaiming the feed from perfection and replacing it with truth. It’s about saying, “This is me,” and letting that be enough.
Take me into the psychology of apology. Why do we say sorry for being seen? For sharing joy, pain, art, growth? Because we’ve been taught that visibility is vanity. That vulnerability is weakness. That taking up space is selfish. But here’s the truth: it’s necessary.
Let the photos in the comments speak louder than the caption. A hand holding another. A face mid-laugh. A body mid-dance. A moment mid-healing. These are not interruptions—they’re invitations. To witness. To connect. To remember that behind every post is a person.
Take me to the ones who comment, “You’re not taking up space—you’re creating it.” The ones who see the courage and respond with kindness. The ones who know that every story shared makes room for another to be told. This is how community is built—not through perfection, but through presence.
Take me into the ripple effect. One post leads to another. One story unlocks a hundred more. The feed becomes a tapestry of truth, stitched together by people who dared to be real. And suddenly, the space isn’t crowded—it’s sacred.
Let the full story unfold. Maybe it started with a breakup. Or a diagnosis. Or a dream deferred. Maybe it’s a comeback. Or a confession. Or a quiet moment of clarity. Whatever it is, it’s not too much. It’s not too loud. It’s not too late.
Take me into the heart of the matter: we are all just trying to be seen. To be understood. To be held. And sometimes, that means posting a photo with a caption that says, “Sorry for taking up space,” even though what we really mean is, “Please don’t look away.”
Let the feed be a canvas. Let the comments be a chorus. Let the story be a song that doesn’t need to rhyme, only resonate.
And when someone scrolls past and sees that post—sees you—let them feel something. Let them pause. Let them remember that behind every image is a heartbeat. Behind every caption is a voice. Behind every “sorry” is a soul asking to be heard.
Take me there.
To the moment you stop apologizing for being.
To the moment you realize your story isn’t clutter—it’s clarity.
To the moment you understand that taking up space isn’t a crime—it’s a calling.
So post the photo. Share the story. Fill the feed.
Because you’re not taking up space.
You’re making it sacred.
