If you ask me,
How are you doing?
I’ll smile,
Tuck the truth behind my teeth,
and say
“I’m fine.”
But if you pause,
look me in the eyes,
and ask again,
“No, how are you really doing?”
I might just tell you…
I’m tired
of living in a world where my worth
is measured in paychecks and productivity.
Where rest feels like guilt,
and ambition, a cage with velvet lining.
I am overwhelmed.
Buried in deadlines,
chasing dreams that leave blisters on my feet,
because I know what I want for my life
and I know it won’t come cheap.
Love?
I flinch at the thought.
Not because I haven’t loved,
but because I’ve inherited the heartbreak
of women who taught me to be cautious,
to hold back,
to never let it all in.
I keep my guard up
steel walls around a soft heart.
And truthfully?
I’m exhausted from the weight of my own armor.
But letting it down feels
too risky.
Too unsafe.
Sometimes,
I sit with the bitterness
of how much I give,
and how little I get in return.
And I wonder,
Is this what “hard work pays off” looks like?
I lie.
To others.
To myself.
I say I’m open,
say I’m healed,
say I’m ready
when love still terrifies me.
I’ve broken down this year
not once,
not twice,
but in silent nights
when nobody was watching.
And I hate that I question people’s motives,
not because I want to doubt them,
but because I have to.
Because trust is no longer my first language.
So yes…
You might ask, “How are you?”
And I’ll still smile.
Still nod.
Still say,
“I’m fine.”
Not because I am
But because,
honestly,
I don’t even know where to start.
Take a time out, give yourself a break. Because nobody will.
