Author’s Note

This piece isn’t about hating a place.
It’s about refusing to perform pride I don’t feel.

For most of my life, I’ve carried a quiet disconnect—and what’s always surprised me isn’t the feeling itself, but how personal other people take it. As if my lack of attachment is an accusation.

It isn’t.

It’s just honesty.

Be Proud is about boundaries. About recognizing that someone else’s love for something doesn’t require my imitation. And that some feelings run too deep to be argued out of existence.

Rowan Evans


A solitary person standing apart from a distant city skyline under a dramatic evening sky.
You can love it.
I just don’t.

Be Proud
Poetry by Rowan Evans

It’s always been funny to me,
the way people argue with me.
Why does my disconnect
affect you so badly?
Why do you take
my wanting to leave,
so personal?

If you’re proud,
be proud—
I don’t care,
honestly.

You’re wasting your breath,
you’re wasting your time—
because, you’re never going to
change my mind.
I’ve been like this
for most of my life,
so tell me—
do you really think
your opinion will
change something
so marrow deep?

Look, you love America—
I get it, I really do,
and I wish
I was a little more
like you.

But I’m not.

And I can’t fake it,
you can’t make me.


If you’re interested in more poetry, you can find it here → [The Library of Ashes]

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