Sometimes, I hate myself for being too soft…
Too forgiving. Too understanding. Too quick to see where someone is coming from, even when they never tried to understand where I was standing. I always find myself looking for reasons to excuse people who hurt me.
Maybe they didn’t mean it. Maybe they’re going through something. Maybe they just don’t know any better.
Somehow, I can always find compassion for everyone else, yet I struggle to show the same compassion to myself.
I’ve always been the kind of person who would rather carry the weight than let someone else feel uncomfortable. I’d rather stay silent than risk hurting someone’s feelings. I’d rather swallow my own disappointment than become the reason someone feels guilty. And if I’m being honest, it’s exhausting. I’m tired of it.
Sometimes, I wonder what it feels like to put myself first without feeling selfish. To say “No” without rehearsing an apology in my head. To walk away without worrying if they’ll think I’m a bad person. I envy people who can choose themselves so effortlessly, while I spend hours wondering if I was too harsh for simply asking to be treated with the same kindness I give so freely…
The truth is, I hate how easily I neglect my own feelings. I become so focused on making sure everyone else is okay that I forget to ask myself if I am. I keep giving people the benefit of the doubt until there’s nothing left for me. I make room for everyone’s mistakes, everyone’s mood, everyone’s flaws, while convincing myself that my own pain can wait a little longer.
Maybe that’s why I end up suffering in silence.
Not because no one would listen, but because I’ve become so used to convincing myself that everyone else’s emotions matter more than mine.
