— You're wearing yourself out.
— Nope... i'm just fine.
— Don't lie to me. I see it in your eyes,in your actions,in the way you walk.
I feel it in your short breath, in your dim look, in your trembling voice.
You're wearing yourself out.
— I don't have a choice.
I have to carry it all, manage it all, cash it all.
I need to be strong .
- Cool?
You confuse strength with sacrifice.
What you wear bends your chin,
gnaw your bones,
turning you off softly, silently.
— I can't let it go.
They are counting on me.
If i stop, everything falls apart.
— And you?
If your falling apart,
who will lift you up?
— I... I don't know.
I don't want to be a burden.
— You don't have to carry it all alone.
You are not a rock,
you are a woman.
— But if I don't, who will?
If I'm not strong, who will be in my place?
— Who taught you that asking for help was a weakness?
Who made you believe that being exhausted was a sign of courage?
— I learned to be strong.
To hold on tight.
Not to complain.
— And at what cost?
How much does your light go out?
At what cost are your dreams?
— I don't want to disappoint.
I don't want to fail.
— You don't fail by resting.
You don't fail by letting go of what's not yours.
You do not fail by choosing to save yourself, you.
— But if I stop...
If I let go...
If i drop this weight...
Who am I then ?
— You are you.
Finally you.
Without masks, without imposed roles.
You become that free woman again,
she who knows how to dance in the rain,
the one who doesn't seek to please,
the one who doesn't need to control everything to be at peace.
— What if I fall?
— Then you will rise again.
But this time,
you will be lighter.
Because you'll only keep what's truly yours.
— I'm afraid to disappoint.
I fear losing those who don't understand.
— Then lose them.
Because those who can't accept your truth
never really liked who you are.
— What if I lose myself?
— It's only by losing you
that you will be able to find yourself.
Really.
Whole.
Savage.
Libre.
— What if... What if i don't make it?
— Then I'll be there.
I'm the flame inside you that refuses to be extinguished.
I am the breath that makes you rise.
I'm that voice that whispers:
You are much stronger than you think.
— So... I'm letting go.
I'm dropping it off.
I'm breathing.
— Finally.
Love and gratitude🫶
Bless be💕
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