The Weight We Don’t Talk About

There was a time I mistook silence for strength.
I thought if I didn’t say it—if I didn’t let the pain rise to the surface—it would lose its power. But what I didn’t realize was that the very act of hiding it made it heavier. The sadness, the disappointment, the shame—it didn’t disappear. It grew roots.

Sometimes the hardest thing isn’t what happened.
It’s pretending it didn’t.
It’s putting on the smile. Pushing through the day.
Nodding “I’m fine” when everything inside is unraveling.

And the worst part? You start to believe that silence means something. That maybe you are the problem. That if you were stronger, you wouldn’t feel this much. That maybe if you were better, it wouldn’t hurt.

But that’s not the truth.

The truth is, we all carry untold stories.
The ones we tuck away because we don’t want to be a burden.
The moments we keep quiet because we don’t want to look weak.
And yet—those very stories are what make us human.

You don’t have to tell everyone. You don’t have to put your heart on display.
But you do deserve one space where your truth is allowed to exhale.
Sometimes that’s therapy.
Sometimes it’s a journal or a prayer or a long walk alone.
And sometimes, it’s a quiet moment with yourself at the bathroom sink—palms full of blue tansy and lavender—saying with every gentle motion:
“I see you. I haven’t given up on you.”

That’s what a good rituale is.
Not just skincare. Not just routine.
But a space to return to yourself. A moment of softness where there’s no performance, no perfection—just care.
A reminder that you are not broken, even if you feel like you are.
A whisper that says, “You’re still here. And that’s enough.”

So if today feels heavy—if the words sit like a knot in your throat—you don’t need to fix everything. You just need to meet yourself where you are. Let your rituale be the space that holds what’s too tender to say out loud.

Because healing doesn’t always need noise.
Sometimes it just needs presence.
And permission to breathe.