Growing up with people who I never saw cry and who seemed like they were handling it very well made me feel embarrassed to tell them that I’m on the verge of giving up. After all, in their eyes, I am that strong, independent Ms. I-can-do-it-all. I can’t afford to fall apart.
Behind my introverted, cold facade, confident, non-sociable personality, and I-can-do-it-all attitude is a girl who's wounded, far from perfect, and someone who needs saving.
But because of this situation, I started bottling up all of my emotions and just drowned myself in studying. Telling others that I'm not okay—that I'm far from perfect—feels so wrong.
The pressure to appear strong and capable, to always have it together, is a heavy burden to bear. It's a burden I've carried for years, fueled by the examples of those around me who seemed impervious to pain. I've learned to hide my vulnerabilities, to wear a mask of confidence and competence, even when my insides are crumbling. This facade, while protecting me from judgment, also isolates me from genuine connection.
The thought of admitting my struggles, of revealing the cracks in my carefully constructed facade, fills me with a sense of shame. It feels like a betrayal, a violation of the expectations placed upon me. I've been conditioned to believe that vulnerability is weakness, that showing my pain will somehow diminish my worth. So, I turn to studying, a safe haven where I can escape the judgment of others and convince myself that I'm still in control. It's a way to prove to myself and to the world that I'm still capable, still worthy, even when I'm falling apart inside.
Studying and listening to music have become my go-to habits every time I feel sad and on the verge of breaking apart. Studying has become my solace, an escape from my own mind. I tend to study for hours, days, and weeks every time I feel like I'm on the verge of giving up, yet I can't tell others because it feels so wrong.
I'm hiding my pain behind the facade of studying. I study so that I can always tell myself that I'm okay. I suppress my pain, hide it away, and let studying become the surface of my pain.
But you know what I realized?
Suppressing our pain doesn't make it go away—instead, it starts to hurt silently. It hurts by making your heart feel heavy. It becomes heavy because of all the countless pain you've hidden and suppressed. You didn't let it out or make it go away. Instead, you store it until it's finally suffocating you silently.
Our pain is meant to be felt. Being in pain doesn't make us weak; it is what makes us human. It is part of living.
