I found myself in the silence.
Strength in Stillness.
Can you hear me? I’m whispering through the noise, trying to be heard above the chaos. I’ve always been the one to listen, to help others untangle their thoughts while my own remained a jumbled mess. I gave so much of my heart, believing it was a bottomless well, yet I never saw how quickly it ran dry. While I was busy collecting your stories, my own faded into the background.
I told myself I was fine. After all, wasn’t I the one with all the answers? The one who always knew how to comfort a friend, to piece together their broken moments? But now, standing here with silence enveloping me, I wonder — who will lend me their ear when I’m the one in need?
I thought that if I offered enough compassion, enough understanding, enough of my time, it would suffice. That I could help others heal while I remained whole. But the truth is, you can’t piece together someone else’s heart if yours is shattering too.
I wore empathy like a shield, convinced it would safeguard me from life’s storms. Yet, even the strongest armor can crack, and now I feel every fracture, every spot where I’ve frayed. I spent so long nurturing everyone else’s spirits that I failed to see my own slowly unraveling.
“You’re the part of me I’ve forgotten how to be, but I’ll keep searching for you, even in the quietest moments.”
I speak the words I crave to hear. I tell myself that it’s okay to pause, that the noise will eventually fade. But beneath it all, there’s a silent ache, a voice I’ve buried beneath layers of expectation, too afraid to set it free. If I admit I’m struggling, what happens to the ones who lean on me?
I’ve built a refuge for others, but where’s my solace when the world feels heavy?
As the wind howls outside, it mirrors the restless thoughts I’ve kept locked away for too long. I’m not always okay. I’ve just become an expert at wearing a smile, at feigning strength even when I feel so fragile inside.
I gave everything I had, and now I’m running on fumes.
“You held everyone else up, but who will support you when you falter?”
Five words.
“Only you, and that’s enough.”
I thought I was invincible, unbreakable. But now I understand that true strength lies not in never faltering, but in recognizing when you’ve hit your limit. It’s about knowing when to seek help, even if the unknown looms ahead.
I hope you remember to pause. You’re allowed to rest. You’re allowed to be the one who needs a lifeline sometimes. You can’t give from an empty heart, and it’s okay if you’re not always the rock.
We are delicate in ways we never anticipated, and that’s what makes us beautifully human.
So, take a moment. Breathe. Release the burdens you’ve been carrying alone. You’ve done more than enough, and you deserve the same tenderness you’ve shown to others. It’s okay to feel vulnerable because in those moments, we find the courage to begin anew.
I see you, and I’m proud of your journey. You’ve borne more than anyone should have to endure, yet you’re still here, and that is more than enough.
We’ll navigate this together.
You are enough!
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