I think that sometimes we forget, we are stronger than we think.
We forget that when we talk about “a strong person” – he or she isn’t defined by brawn, hardiness, toughness… all these words we’re guilty of automatically assuming as mutually exclusive with the very word strong. We’re equally guilty of mindlessly discounting words like gentleness, tenderness, finesse whenever we attempt to measure a person’s strength.
Yet other times, we don’t give enough credit to how limitless our minds can expand; how long our bodies can hold up without breaking when subjected to brute force and pressure; and always – how much our hearts can cope.
We conveniently forget the extent to which our minds, bodies, and hearts are able to learn the languages of survival and living, these unspoken discourses that are challenging any way we’re served them: swallow, spit out, or roll on our tongues.
Some of us tend to decorate our pain while others obsessively hide them away. Neither are rightfully right or wrong – they’re all contextual; not all flaws are appropriate or necessary to flaunt to the public eye. Likewise, not all scars need to be proudly put on display and not all tragic stories require retelling. Some grieving we simply must do in private.
But I think.
Sometimes I think – we simply don’t give ourselves enough credit.
So here’s for you:
I want you learn the true strength of your heart.
I want you to trace its details with your gentle hands and your tender eyes,
feel the suppleness of skin and sinew that encase your rapidly beating core
and not simply know but also believe, hard,
that you are whole to begin with.
You are whole to begin with.