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“THE WEIGHT WE NEVER SHOW” Insecurities don’t always scream. Sometimes, they whisper— so softly, so cruelly— “You’re not enough.” “They’re going to leave you.” “You’re only loved when you’re perfect.” And we believe them— not because we want to, but because they sound familiar. Because they’ve been echoing inside us for years, shaped by moments we never fully healed from. They don’t arrive in one big heartbreak. They’re pieced together— from a passing joke that stung more than it should’ve, from being overlooked when you needed to be seen, from the silence after you shared something brave, from love that made you feel like you had to earn every bit of it. So we learn to carry them quietly. We tuck them behind eyeliner, behind laughter, behind “I’m fine.” We let them sit beside us, even when all we want is to breathe freely. But they don’t stay hidden. They show up in how quickly we say sorry. In how long it takes us to believe a compliment. In the way we sabotage good things, just to beat the pain to the punch. And the cruelest trick? They make us think we’re the only ones. That everyone else walks through life untouched, unshaken. That no one else has a voice inside them that questions their worth on the quietest nights. But if we paused—just for a moment— and looked a little closer, we’d see it. In her smile that trembles at the corners. In his silence when the room gets loud. In the way someone clings to their phone waiting for a text that makes them feel chosen. We’re all fighting something we don’t say out loud. So maybe the first step isn’t “fixing” ourselves. Maybe it’s whispering back— “You’re scared, and that’s okay.” “You’ve been hurt, but you’re still here.” “You’re allowed to take up space, exactly as you are.” Because the truth is, we don’t have to wake up perfect. We don’t have to shine all the time. But we can wake up real. And maybe real… is finally enough. Raman♥️
Dear Friend, Thank you—for the twenty years we shared. I still carry the echoes of our laughter in my chest. I remember the long afternoons at school, the midnight phone calls when the world felt too heavy, and how your voice was enough to make it feel light again. You were my safe place once. My person. And for that, I will always thank you—with a full heart. When your world slowly filled with new rhythms and unfamiliar faces, I watched us shift from daily conversations to distant memories. You didn’t leave with a goodbye. You just… slowly stopped showing up. And I told myself it was okay—that you were busy, that life was just moving fast. But the silence grew louder. I missed the way you used to check on me. I missed being someone you thought about without a reason. And quietly, I began to wonder if I had imagined the depth we once shared. I wasn’t angry. Just quietly heartbroken. Like a book that suddenly ends mid-sentence. I kept reading, hoping for a next page that never came. I tried to understand. I told myself that love—any kind of love—sometimes drifts. But it hurt to be remembered only when you needed something, and forgotten when I did. Still, I forgive you—for not staying. And I forgive myself—for holding on so long, for replaying memories like lullabies, hoping they’d bring you back. You gave me something beautiful once: a friendship that felt like home. And even if that home has closed its doors, the warmth of it still lingers in my chest. Today, I let go of the questions that ache. I let go of the old hopes and quiet disappointments. I carry forward only the love—because even if it ended, it mattered. I’m walking toward new spaces now—toward friendships that feel soft and mutual, where presence is a gift we both give. And I wish you nothing but good things. May your life be full. May your heart be at peace. And may you always know that someone out there loved you—deeply, and without regret. With love and gentle release, Raman♥️
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