The people I trust aren’t the ones who’ve figured it out.
They’re the ones still dragging their broken parts behind them – and not hiding it.
They’ve stopped trying to be one thing.
Not strong, not healed, not whole.
Just present.
Inside they carry the urge to move and the deep pain of not moving.
The urge to ride and fight, and the weight that forces to stay down.
Both live there. Neither gets erased.
They don’t call it balance.
They just let all the parts coexist
the proud one, the scared one, the dreamer and the one that gave up years ago.
The tough one and the shameful one.
No one gets kicked out.
No one takes the wheel.

You want to know what strength looks like?
It’s letting the sadness speak without giving it the last word.