There's this thing that happens when you're the strong one in your circle. People stop asking if you're okay. Not because they don't care, but because somewhere along the line, everyone just assumed you were fine. She's always fine, perpetually fine. And the worst part? You let them do that to you. You trained people to see you a certain way. You picked up the phone at 2am for someone else's breakdown. You showed up, gave advice, held space, said the right things, and you were the rock. Well rocks don't cry, right? The crazy thing is that nobody talks about how being the strong one costs something. Every time you swallow your own panic to manage someone else's, that's a tax. Every time you say "I'm good" when you're actually falling apart on the inside, that's a tax. Every time you 'act' okay because you don't want to burden people with the fact that you're human, just like them? tax, tax, tax. I think about the version of me that genuinely believed asking for help was weakness. That sitting with my own pain instead of fixing someone else's was selfish. That being vulnerable was just not for me. That I was supposed to be the dependable one, the one who figures it out. Dear reader, You are allowed to not be okay. You are allowed to need people. You are allowed to put the weight down and say "I'm tired" without immediately following it up with "but I'll be fine." The strongest thing you will ever do is let someone actually see you. Not the curated, holding-it-together version. You. Try it. It's terrifying. Do it anyway. ❤️&💡
