Nobody talks about the seasons where nothing seems to move. Not backward. Not forward. Just… still. You wake up, breathe, do your best, end the day — and somehow it feels like you’re standing in the same place you were yesterday. Your prayers look the same. Your routines look the same. Your dreams feel close …
Life doesn’t always change with fireworks. Sometimes it shifts quietly — in the middle of a normal morning you were too busy to notice. We always expect the big moments to define us, but most of the time, it’s the small ones that shape us without announcing themselves. The laughter at the dinner table. The …
There are days when you can see everything clearly — you know what’s true, what’s healthy, what’s right. You can name the patterns, quote the lessons, even coach yourself through them. And still, you wake up heavy. Still, your chest feels tight. Still, the simplest things — a shower, a reply, a smile — feel …
Strength has a limit. And when you hit it, the crash is louder than anyone realizes. Everyone loves the strong ones. They’re the ones you call when you can’t hold it together. The ones who nod, who reassure, who carry more than they should and still smile while doing it. People assume their capacity is …
Some goodbyes don’t come with closure. Some losses aren’t loud. And some endings — even if they weren’t real, even if they lived only in our minds or screens or hearts — still leave us grieving. We attach. To people. To stories. To dreams. We walk with characters, live inside chapters, get entangled in slow …
There’s a strange kind of exhaustion that doesn’t show on your face. It’s not loud. It doesn’t cry in public. It just sits there — quietly — in your chest. Heavy. Like you’re breathing through wet cotton. You’re not falling apart exactly. But you’re not okay either. You’re just… still standing. Barely. Sometimes, that’s what …
Some days, it just hits. Not like a storm, not like a crash. But like a quiet undoing. You’re lying there. Not really crying. Not really sleeping. Just… drained. Done. There’s this weight in your chest, but you’re too tired to name it. You try to trace what exactly is wrong, but your brain can’t …
Sometimes, it starts so quietly, you don’t even realise what’s happening. You begin adjusting. Toning yourself down. Not to deceive—but to connect. To be liked. To be chosen. To not feel so… alone. You say yes when you mean no. You ignore what hurts. You twist yourself into someone easier to accept. And over time, …
It’s not loud. Not dramatic. It’s just that moment when you’re saying something and they look away. Or change the subject. Or act like you’re taking too long. And you notice. Even if you pretend not to. You feel yourself pull back. You don’t mean to. It just happens. A small part of you shuts …
Sometimes people say they’re “keeping the peace” when really, they’re just hiding the war. They go quiet. They swallow their words. They build walls and call it love. But silence isn’t always healing. Sometimes it’s just a slow erosion. A slow burning. A slow goodbye. We tell ourselves that if we don’t talk about it, …