I mean, all my life I had been worrying about other people, worrying about their well-being, but while I was out saving the world, who was out for me? Who was saving me? No one, no one was, and this was the first step into that reality. No one could save me but myself. I knew I had enough in me to save the whole damn world, but still, I had to fix myself before fixing anyone else.
Writing is an Art of Expression for Me
In a world full of sadness, fear, stress, and anxiousness, I see people walking around with heavy hearts—smiling, laughing, hanging out with friends, talking nicely with family, and appearing perfectly fine from the outside. But deep down, something feels missing. Something silent yet heavy, growing inside like a bubble that keeps expanding day by day. And then, one day, that bubble bursts. It bursts in the form of an emotional breakdown, uncontrollable tears, or violent anger. And ironically, at that very moment, the same society that teaches you to hide your emotions suddenly labels you as “the bad one.” Since childhood, we’ve been taught that crying is a sign of weakness. “Don’t cry, be strong.” “Boys don’t cry.” “Control your anger.” And over the years, we learned to suppress every natural emotion that makes us human. When we cry, we are told to stop. When we get angry, we are told we are bad. When we try to express pain, we are told to “move on.” Slowly, we start hiding everything...
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