I feel like I was made of worn-out journal pages, filled with words I could never say out loud. Each page tells its own story – some are fully written, while others hold just a single paragraph. Every page is wrinkled, showing the aftermath of my efforts to fill in all the spaces, but the ink is growing fainter, and the words are becoming shorter. It’s as if I’m running out of moments to tell – or maybe, I’m just weighed down by the strength I’ve tried so hard to maintain.
It’s exhausting to be strong all the time. There are days when I wish I could just let go, crumble into the arms of someone who can be strong for me. I long for the freedom to be vulnerable, to admit that I’m not always okay. But I’ve worn this mask for so long that it feels like it’s become a part of me, even though it’s wear out at the edges.
The truth is, being strong isn’t about never feeling pain or never needing help. It’s about carrying on despite those things, even when it feels impossible. But what do you do when the burden becomes too heavy? When the pages of your journal start to tear, the ink runs dry, or there are no more pages left? Do you keep writing, buy a new journal and leave the old one behind? Would it make a difference? Even with a fresh start, the stories would be the same – only without the memories of old wounds. Is it okay to finally set the pen down and admit that I’m tired?
Niki was right – who am I if I can’t be everyone’s strong girl, especially when my purpose in life has always been to be strong for others?
But also, what if, what if strength is something different? What if it’s about knowing when to let go, when to admit that I can’t do this alone? And maybe, just maybe, there’s strength in admitting that I’m tired of being strong.
So, I’ll continue to write in my worn-out journal, filling the pages with stories – some full, some incomplete – but I’ll also allow myself to leave a few pages blank, knowing that it’s okay to take a break, to rest, to be the one who leans on others for a change. And in those quiet moments, maybe I’ll discover that strength isn’t just about what I can do for others, but also about embracing the parts of me that aren’t always strong.
