I’ve always had this habit, some might call it a pattern, of running away when I’m hurting.
Not physically running away, necessarily. More like emotionally retreating. I pull back, go quiet, close the doors of my heart, and pretend I’m okay when I’m anything but. And even when I’m surrounded by people who love me, I still feel alone in my pain.
For as long as I can remember, silence has been my coping mechanism. It's where I retreat to sort things out, to feel safe, to avoid explaining emotions I can barely understand myself. But here’s the thing: silence doesn’t always bring peace. Sometimes, silence is just a disguise for chaos. A mask I wear to keep people from seeing the storm inside.
I don’t always let people in. Not because I don’t trust them—but because I don’t know how. Vulnerability is scary. Saying “I’m not okay” feels like I’m dumping weight on someone else’s shoulders. I worry about being too much, or being seen as weak. So I stay quiet. I keep it together. I carry it alone.
But the truth is… I wish I didn’t.
I wish I knew how to say, “I’m not okay,” without feeling like a burden.
I wish I could believe that needing support doesn’t make me less strong. That speaking up is not selfish, it’s human. That I’m allowed to take up space in someone else’s heart, not just give it. That healing doesn’t always have to be a solo journey.
There’s still a lot I’m learning. But maybe the first step is this: admitting it here, in these words. Maybe the next step is letting just one person in. Not everyone, just someone who cares enough to listen.
If you’re reading this and it resonates with you, I hope you know you’re not alone. There are so many of us out there, quietly hurting behind smiles and silences. Maybe it's time we start unlearning the habit of hiding. Maybe it’s okay to say, “I’m struggling.”
Because being honest about our pain doesn’t make us a burden. It makes us brave.
