Serena 2026
Student
- Jan 15, 2026
- 142
I said "yes" too often just to stay, even when my heart longed for rest. I became a shadow of myself so as not to be a burden, while my silence tried to call out to me; I was a refuge, a path, and an answer in times of distress, yet no one saw the heavy weight I carried; I turned myself inside out to fit in with the crowd, forgetting that my body holds a heart, too. It is not weakness if my voice grew weary, if my "no" got stuck and my light dimmed; there is a gentle plea waiting to emerge from the boundaries I denied myself in order to keep standing. It is not weakness; it is my heart asking for kindness, begging me to stop saying "yes" to everything so I don't slowly wither away in this world. The boundary that heals is not a wall, but an act of tender care—it is the soul speaking with love and clarity, saying that to save yourself, you must choose *you*; for who dries the tears of the one who always held space for others' pain? Perhaps the mistake was believing that loving everyone meant abandoning myself. But I can no longer live divided by fear, ignoring my heart; today, I heed my weariness without self-reproach, choosing a kind of death to find relief... and that is not weakness—it is peace!