We tend to have a very weird, one-dimensional definition of strength. We associate physical strength with being muscular and bulky and lifting a hundred kilos. We associate mental strength with stoicism and knowing how to deal with everything. But here’s the thing. Asking for help is a fine display of strength. Showing your emotions openly? That’s strong as well. Being human and having vulnerabilities and embracing said vulnerabilities is strong.
I have spent way too many precious years of my like having an absolutely juvenile idea about strength. I have spent way too many hours crying behind closed doors, thinking that I would look weak if someone saw me sobbing like that. I have spent so much of my life treating my strength like a fragile little glass vase at the edge of the table, which could fall at the blink of an eye and shatter into a million pieces.
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