(Those Who Live Beneath the Shadows)
And maybe that’s the saddest part of all.
That I kept choosing love… in a world that kept choosing to forget me.
Because this world teaches you how to shine,
But never how to survive the darkness when no one is watching.
It applauds your strength, but only when it’s convenient.
It wants your resilience, not your reality.
Your smile, not your scars.
But only if that self fits neatly into their comfort zone.
Speak up, but not too loud.
Feel things, but don’t make them uncomfortable.
Be bold, but not too much.
Be you, but only the version that pleases them.
We were taught to swallow our sadness in silence,
To stitch our wounds behind closed doors,
To call it discipline when it’s really just emotional neglect.
To confuse perfection with worth.
To wear our burnout like a badge of honor.
And when we finally break—
They don’t ask, “What hurt you?”
They ask, “Why didn’t you try harder?”
They romanticize healing, but never sit through the mess.
They preach mental health, but mock the ones who reach out.
They say, “I’m here for you,”
But disappear the moment we stop pretending we’re okay.
In this world, empathy is a whisper,
But judgment is a scream.
And somehow, survival is never enough.
You have to survive beautifully—gracefully—quietly.
Even when it’s killing you.
Tired of being brave in a war I never asked to fight.
Tired of explaining my pain in a language they refuse to learn.
Tired of performing wellness to make others comfortable.
