Sometimes, I wonder how much of myself I had to silence just to survive. I kept telling myself that everything was fine. I swallowed the sadness, ignored the anger, buried the disappointment, and pretended that nothing ever hurt. Every emotion that asked to be felt was pushed deeper, as if hiding it could make it disappear. But emotions don't simply vanish because we refuse to acknowledge them. They stay somewhere inside us, quietly waiting. And perhaps, while I was busy forgetting what hurt me, I began forgetting other things too. Faces became blurry. Moments that once meant everything slowly faded. Conversations I should have remembered disappeared from my mind. Sometimes I could remember how something made me feel, but not what actually happened. It was as if my mind had started erasing pieces of my own story. Maybe losing those memories was my mind's way of protecting me—or maybe it was simply the price of carrying too much for too long. I used to think being strong meant never breaking down. Now I understand that sometimes, being strong means allowing yourself to feel, cry, grieve, and admit that something hurts. Because you shouldn't have to lose pieces of yourself just to convince everyone that you're okay. - @lilyveil11