THE WEIGHT OF THE UNSEEN

Surviving a lifetime of abuse often leaves a person feeling hollowed out—shamed and diminished by the very people who should have protected them. For me, chronic stress isn't just a memory; it is a physiological reality that makes emotional regulation an uphill battle. I recognize that I carry traits forged in the fire of a traumatic childhood and an adulthood where abuse was normalized, unrecognized, and met with silence. In the era I grew up in, there were no hotlines or safety nets.

You simply endured.

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Even now, that history dictates my emotional weather. I move through phases of deep isolation, where the only way to feel safe is to shut down and close the door on the world. Healing isn't a destination; it’s a grueling, lifelong process. The scars I carry are heavy and deep, easily retriggered by the present, forcing me to relive the past in vivid, painful detail.

The Mask and the Wall

I am tired of the performance. I’ve spent years hiding behind a practiced smile, "forging through" as the strong one while my internal world is in ruins. I live on the defense, fighting invisible battles and faking a happiness that feels like an addiction I can’t quit. But even the strongest walls have cracks, and when mine are challenged, the fear of abandonment rushes in.

Trust is a luxury I can rarely afford. Because of my history, I question everything; I don't open up easily, and my circle remains small by design. My estrangement from my immediate family is a testament to the boundaries I’ve had to build to survive.

Power in the Peace

While some might see my isolation as a weakness, I see it as my greatest strength. I don’t need the validation of a crowd to know my worth. I am not lonely; I am powerful.

I have stopped chasing attention and trying to fit into spaces that weren't built for me. I choose peace over drama and authenticity over performance. I learned the hardest way possible that not everyone deserves access to my soul. By keeping my circle small, I am not just avoiding toxic energy—I am protecting the life I fought so hard to keep.

We get one life. I am finally choosing to live mine on my own terms.