Today, I am choosing a new kind of quiet.
Not the kind that hides pain…
but the kind that finally lets me breathe.
I’ve decided to stop telling people how I feel. My heart has been an open window for too long, and the wind that enters is not always gentle. I’ve been reacting to everything, absorbing every emotion, every word, every atmosphere… until it all became too heavy for one soul to carry.
So I’m closing the window for now.
No more forcing laughter when the room is empty of joy.
No more pretending I’m okay just to keep up with everyone else’s rhythm.
No more handing out pieces of myself to people who don’t know how to hold them.
I’m pulling back my stories—my problems, my dreams, my plans, the fragile thoughts I used to share so easily. It is draining to be known by people who don’t truly see me, exhausting to speak to ears that only hear half of the truth, tiring to pour out my heart into hands that offer no warmth in return.
So I’m giving myself permission to pause.
A deep, full, intentional pause.
A pause where I’m not explaining, not performing, not pretending.
A pause where my silence becomes my safety instead of my loneliness.
This pause is not me running away.
This is me returning to myself.
I will heal in the quiet.
I will learn to breathe without forcing it.
I will protect the parts of me that have been overwhelmed for too long.
And when my heart is ready—
when the cracks have softened,
when the weight has lifted,
when I can smile because I feel it again—
I will come back.
Not as the tired version of me…
but as someone who has learned the art of starting over.
For now, I honor the pause.
For now, I honor me.
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POV
Non-FictionLife often presents itself as a series of hurdles, each one taller than the last. These hurdles, though daunting, are not meant to break us but to shape us into who we are meant to be. It is through our darkest nights that we gain the strength to fa...
