I posted on here for the first time and people actually read it. Like… real humans. With eyes. And thoughts. Which is wild to me, because I nearly didn’t post at all.

There’s just something terrifying about letting people into your head, especially when what’s going on in there isn’t perfectly formed or well-timed or aesthetically pleasing. But I hit publish anyway, and the response made me realise something I think I’ve known for a while but never actually said out loud:

I am so tired of being the one who’s always fine.

You know that person – the one who’s so emotionally aware, supportive, calm, always seems to have it together? Yep, that’s me. Well.. maybe a little less calm depending on the day. But still that’s me, and I’ve been that girl for as long as I can remember. People assume I can handle everything. And the truth is that I usually can, I’ve learned how to carry things well; but that doesn’t mean they’re not heavy.

What people don’t see is how much energy it takes to hold space for everyone else. How it eats into your own mental clarity and motivation. How it makes you feel guilty for struggling because you’re “the one who gets it”, right?

And here’s the thing: I’m not saying I don’t like being that person. I actually love it. I love that the people I care about trust me with their feelings, their thoughts, their mess. I wouldn’t change that for anything. But sometimes I wish I could do the same – talk, unload, let someone else help me for once.

And I don’t not do that because I think people wouldn’t listen, I don’t do it because I’ve trained myself not to.

I’m great at telling people what’s happening in my life: what’s gone wrong, what I’m dealing with, what chaos is unfolding – but I never really talk about how any of it actually makes me feel.

It’s almost like I’ll describe the storm in perfect detail but never admit I’m standing in it, soaked and freezing.

And I’m unsure if that’s a pride thing I’ve got going on, a self-protection thing. Or both. But either way I’ve realised, it’s costing me a lot.

I’ve built a whole identity around being self-sufficient, emotionally intelligent, and low-maintenance. But the truth is, none of us are built to carry everything alone.

Being the “strong one” means you become the safe space, the sounding board, the reliable one. But it also means your needs get pushed to the bottom of the list – sometimes by other people, but a lot of the time by yourself. You internalise this idea that asking for help is only going to disappoint people. That if you fall apart, the whole thing starts to crumble.

It’s isolating, exhausting, and it’s something I’m done pretending I can just keep on pushing through.

So, this post is me reclaiming this space. Saying it out loud. I’m tired. I’m doing my best. And sometimes, that doesn’t look like much on the outside – but it’s actually everything.

To everyone that’s liked my posts so far, commented, or just quietly read what I’ve posted – thank you. Genuinely. You’ve helped remind me why I started this blog in the first place.

If you’re also the “fine one”, the “strong one”, the person who carries more than they let on – I see you. You don’t have to hold it all by yourself. Not here.

— Lilly x