What I’d Say If I Wasn’t Afraid to Say It

If I was brave enough to say it all, here’s what you’d hear:

I’m tired of pretending I’m okay just so no one asks questions.
Tired of performing “strong” like it’s a role I auditioned for.
Most days, I show up out of habit—not hope.
And I wish someone knew how loud the silence gets when you’re smiling through the ache.

I’ve outgrown people I still pray for.
I’ve forgiven what never got fixed.
I’ve buried parts of myself just to keep the peace,
and some days, I can't even find them anymore.

I overthink. I overgive.
I stay quiet so I won’t sound needy.
I love hard, and it hurts more than I admit.
I carry invisible weight and still hold space for everyone else.

But here’s the truth:

✨ You’re allowed to outgrow the version of yourself that kept you safe.
✨ You’re allowed to speak, even if your voice shakes.
✨ You’re allowed to need, to feel, to heal in pieces.
✨ You don’t have to earn rest, peace, or grace.

Sometimes, surviving is strength.
Sometimes, saying “I’m not okay” is the boldest thing you can do.
And sometimes, just being here—alive, aware, unfinished—is holy ground.

So if you’re reading this and it feels like your own reflection:
You’re not too much. You’re not behind. You’re not broken.
You’re becoming. 🌿