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@hyasprose
There are days when life feels like that tree—bare, stretched thin against a fading sky, holding on even when it looks like everything has already fallen away. No leaves to hide behind, no colors to impress, just branches exposed… honest, unfiltered, real.
And yet, it still stands.
The world around it keeps moving—houses built, wires drawn across the sky, people passing without noticing—but the tree doesn’t compete. It simply exists, rooted in a place that has seen both storms and stillness. It has learned that not every season is meant for blooming. Some are meant for resting, for shedding, for becoming lighter.
Maybe life is like that too.
Not every chapter will be full, vibrant, or loud. Some will feel quiet, almost empty. But emptiness is not the end—it’s space. Space for growth you can’t yet see. Space for strength that doesn’t need to be proven.
And just like that tree, even in your most stripped-down moments, you are still standing.
Still here. Still becoming.
There are days I wish to disappear —
to shut the world out
and sit with my thoughts in silence.
To trace every what if that’s ever crossed my mind.
But time taught me not to.
Because not everyone will understand the storm that brews inside me,
nor the calm I search for in my silence.
I’ve learned to stay,
because I know the ache of being left out —
of being misunderstood for needing space.
Sometimes, it’s not about meaning to hurt someone.
It’s just that silence speaks a language
not everyone can hear.
Whispers of Resilience
Byhya
⸻
Prologue – A Note to the Reader
This is not a manual.
It will not tell you what to do,
nor promise that life will be easier.
But perhaps it will sit with you
on quiet nights,
when your heart is restless,
when you’ve given too much
and feel hollow inside.
These words are whispers—
gentle reminders that you are not wrong
for wanting balance,
for walking away,
for choosing silence
over chaos.
This is for the one who once begged,
who once stayed too long,
who once carried everyone
and forgot herself.
Read slowly.
Breathe between the lines.
Take what feels like yours,
leave the rest behind.
⸻
Chapter I – The Weight of Giving
There was a time I thought
the more I gave, the more I was worth.
If I bent myself backward,
if I carried everyone’s heaviness,
if I never said no—
then maybe they would stay,
then maybe I would matter.
But giving without limit
is not kindness.
It is erosion.
The world will not tell you this,
but here is the truth:
if you pour endlessly,
people will drink endlessly.
And they will not stop.
Balance is not selfishness.
Balance is survival.
It is the promise you make to yourself:
to mirror kindness when it’s given,
to protect yourself when it’s not.
This is not cruelty.
This is clarity.
To live is not to give until nothing remains.
To live is to offer with open hands,
but also to know when to close them.
⸻
Chapter II – The Grace of Letting Go
We’ve all begged once.
Begged for someone to stay,
for someone to see us,
for someone to give what we gave so freely.
But begging is a quiet betrayal of the self.
It tells your heart:
you are not enough unless they choose you.
And that is not true.
If you can carry their feelings,
they can carry yours.
If they don’t—
that is not your failure,
it is their absence.
Let go.
Release the weight of unreturned love.
Do not beg for scraps
when you were made for wholeness.
The hardest lesson
is not in holding tighter.
The hardest lesson
is knowing when to stop.
But once you learn,
you will never beg again.
⸻
Chapter III – Finding Enough in Less
At first, I thought my heart had grown numb.
I no longer dreamed,
no longer wished,
no longer reached for the impossible.
But numbness is not emptiness.
It is protection.
It is the body saying: rest.
Disappointment repeated
becomes a wound too deep to touch.
And yet, even in this silence,
there is a strange kind of peace.
For when you stop expecting,
you stop breaking.
When you stop assuming,
you stop bleeding over what never arrives.
Insufficiency—
what a harsh word.
But sometimes,
less is enough.
Sometimes,
quiet is enough.
Sometimes,
simply surviving the day
is enough.
And slowly,
you learn to find contentment
in the spaces that feel empty.
It is not giving up.
It is learning to rest.
⸻
Chapter IV – The Strength of Standing Alone
People look at you and see strength.
They see armor.
They see someone unshaken,
someone who carries storms in silence.
They never ask if you’re fine.
They never imagine that strength
can also be loneliness.
That courage can also be fear.
You fear being ignored.
You fear being left behind.
You fear being alone.
And yet—
you carry these fears quietly,
while carrying everyone else too.
But here’s what they don’t see:
Every time you fall,
you rise.
Every time you break,
you stitch yourself back together.
Every time you are left alone,
you still fight.
Strength is not never falling.
Strength is standing up again and again,
even when no one is watching.
You alone will rise.
You alone will fight.
And you alone will endure.
⸻
Chapter V – Distance as Mercy
There comes a time
when silence is kinder than words,
when distance is gentler than staying close.
The more you stand near,
the more you are asked to bend,
to shift,
to mold yourself for others.
But you are not made
to dissolve into everyone else’s needs.
Distance does not mean hatred.
It means peace.
It means giving yourself room to breathe.
It means letting others carry their truths
while you honor your own.
Do not expect sameness.
Do not demand them to act as you would.
Each heart beats differently,
each soul sees the world in its own light.
So step back.
Not in bitterness,
but in mercy.
Sometimes, distance is the kindest gift
you can give to yourself.
⸻
Epilogue – A Whisper to the Self
You are not less for protecting your heart.
You are not cruel for choosing silence.
You are not weak for walking away.
The world does not require you
to give until you vanish.
It only asks that you endure.
That you learn when to offer love
and when to guard it.
Strength is not always loud.
Sometimes it is in soft refusals,
in gentle distance,
in quiet endurance.
And when the world feels too heavy,
may you always remember:
you are enough.
Your unhappiness isn’t caused by anyone else—
it’s the way you react to everything.
The harder you try to be noticed, the heavier the burden becomes.
No one is perfect. Acceptance must start within.
Stop forcing yourself to be appreciated.
Stop searching for flaws in others while ignoring your own.
That only leads to more dissatisfaction.
Loosen up. Don’t be too hard on yourself.
Live lightly. Stop investing in people who don’t care.
In the end, only you carry your burdens.
Protect your peace—stop reacting to everything.
#InnerPeace #MentalHealth #LetGo #HealingJourney #PositiveMindset
Stephanie Foo, What My Bones Know: A Memoir of Healing from Complex Trauma
Dear Tumblr,
I just want to share how I’m feeling right now. I feel a deep sense of pity for my mom. I’ve seen how she tries so hard to fit in with people she thinks are her friends, but I know they don’t truly see her as one of them. I’m grateful that my mom doesn’t let what others say about her get to her, but at the same time, I wish I could change her situation. I want her to realize that she doesn’t need to force herself into a crowd that treats her unkindly.
I want more for her. I want her to be surrounded by people who appreciate her for who she is, without having to push herself into places where she’s not accepted. And I don’t want my children to ever feel that way either. I want them to have what they deserve without having to seek approval from people who don’t truly value them.
I hope one day we all find the strength to walk away from places that don’t embrace us and seek the ones where we truly belong.
Kay Redfield Jamison, An Unquiet Mind: A Memoir of Moods and Madness
Glennon Doyle, Untamed
Louise Glück, from “Otis”, Poems 1962 - 2012
Sunset always reminds me that some ending will give you calm.
good things to pay attention to more often
the color of trees
clouds and how they look different throughout the day
the different colors the mornings can have. sometimes it's an orange hue and sometimes pink and sometimes it's too misty to tell
pretty color schemes in random places (the trees and your neighbors wooden patio and the color of their car)
the states of the vehicles passing you by, dents and scratches and the different trinkets suspended from their rearview mirrors
the sound of silence
the shadows the lights cast in your home, like how sunset looks different than sunrise, and the shadows the sun casts look different than those of your lamps and candles
pretty details in buildings and houses like certain types of windows or doorknobs or archways
the movement of things in the wind. flags, leaves, flowers, people's hair and coats
(more, because you guys left the best ones in the tags:)
the golden outline people and animals get in the sunlight
the speed that the clouds move with
the expression of cars (you can tell by looking at the headlights!?)
water droplets racing on the windows of a moving vehicle
birdsong and how many different ones there are
flocks of birds
the way people interact in public, what things they’re carrying, what they’re looking at (the sky, their food, each other)
things that stick out really obviously like a bright yellow car or an abnormally tall tree branch or a single light left on in an office building
reflections in bodies of water and windows and cars. as if the world is twice as big and beautiful.
the gradient of the sky when there’s little to no clouds
the direction, speed and temperature of the wind. how it feels on your skin and how it tugs at tree branches!
all the different textures of the walls you encounter (trace your fingers over the bumpy ones, look for faces or familiar shapes)
how far light reaches. and how it sometimes seems to dance with the shadow
people’s soft reactions to whatever is happening around them. small smiles, wide eyes, suppressed laughter, or even pure confusion
everything that’s alive. that there’s no definitive, general answer to how you can visually tell that everything around you lives, just that it does.
You deserve to be proud of your progress. Even if no one else knows about it, or can see it. It doesn't change the fact that it's there. And I bet you've made more progress than you even realize.
“You are going to be so much more than ‘enough’ for someone someday.”
— Unknown
Alone I sit,
beneath the boundless skies,
Not in loneliness,
but in sweet solitude's embrace,
Free from the burdens that once bound my life,
I find liberation in this tranquil space.
Please, don’t settle for a surface level of connection when you know you’re craving depth.
!!!!!!!