The World we live

Strength in vulnerability

They say, "Be strong, don't let them see you cry."
So I wore my strength like a suit of armor,
built walls so high, even the stars couldn't reach me.
I told myself that tears were a sign of weakness,
that silence was safer than words
that might betray the fragile truth beneath.

But there came a day when the weight became too heavy—
when my laughter was hollow
and my smiles were paper-thin.
I was tired of pretending,
of being the warrior who never falters,
the pillar that never breaks.

And so, one evening, I let the dam burst.
I let the tears spill like rain on dry earth,
let my voice crack as I spoke the words
that I had buried deep for so long.
I was scared, trembling, exposed—
but in that moment, I felt something shift.

For in that honest surrender,
I found a strength that no armor could give me.
I discovered that courage isn't in hiding the scars
but in showing them and saying, "This is me."
I had been so afraid to be seen,
but in my vulnerability, I was more real
than I had ever been behind my walls.

And maybe, somewhere,
someone who is also breaking, also aching,
will see these words and know—
it's okay to let your guard down.
It's okay to be soft in a world that tries to make you hard.
There is strength in the tears you shed,
in the fears you face, in the moments you share
when you're at your lowest.

So here I am, open and raw,
no more masks, no more armor.
This is my heart, laid bare,
a testament to the power of being human.
Because true strength isn't in never falling—
it's in rising, over and over again,
with a heart that remains tender
no matter how many times it has been broken.