It’s a quiet kind of battle—one where you're both the fighter and the wound. But if there’s anything I’ve learned, it’s this: even when your mind is screaming to give up, the fact that you’re still here, still trying, still breathing—that counts for something. And maybe, for now, that’s enough.✍️

But then, almost without warning, the weight comes crashing back. You’re tired. Mentally, emotionally, physically. You start questioning your strength, your progress, even your worth. That same hope that felt so close now feels like a distant illusion…..✍️

That’s the cruelty of manipulation: it hides in charm, in credibility, in carefully calculated impressions.
It doesn’t just protect them — it isolates you.

But it’s not kindness. It’s strategy.
They curate a reputation so pristine, so untouchable, that if you ever try to speak up about what they’ve done to you —
you’ll look like the bitter, unstable one.

to validate pain without making it about themselves, to sit with someone’s darkness without needing to fix it or flee. And once you see it, you can’t unsee it. It makes the world feel lonelier than you ever expected.

This system doesn’t value labor—it feeds on it, drains it, and discards those who are left struggling to survive.

….In the middle of her own disappointment, she knew better. She knew she made some bad decisions.
She knew she took a risk. She knew he wasn't the one. That's why she sleeps well at night. It's also why she's doing so well now. See, she learned.

staring at nothing, feeling everything and nothing all at once.
It’s like your heart broke so quietly, even you didn’t hear it.
And in that moment, it doesn’t hurt

It just feels empty.
Like you’ve stopped existing, but your body forgot to leave.🥸