I’m Tired of Being Strong

I’m exhausted.

Not just physically tired. Not the kind of tired that one good night of sleep can fix.

I’m exhausted from being strong for so long.

For years, I survived abuse and being used by people. It took me a long time to even be able to call some of what happened to me abuse. For years, I questioned it. Minimized it. Blamed myself for it.

I thought maybe I should have stopped it.

Maybe I should have known better.

Maybe I should have done something differently.

That kind of thinking became part of me.

Even now, when something goes wrong, my mind can go straight to blaming myself. Sometimes it does not even have anything directly to do with me, and somehow I still find a way to wonder what I did wrong.

I know more now than I did then.

I know the abuse was not my fault.

I know the shame was never mine to carry.

I know I was not responsible for what other people chose to do to me.

But knowing those things does not automatically erase years of survival.

Sometimes the mind understands something long before the rest of you knows how to live it.

I think that is one of the hardest things for people to understand about healing.

You can know you are not to blame and still feel the old pull toward self-blame.

You can know you are safe in a moment and still feel like you have to stay alert.

You can know you do not have to carry everything anymore and still have no idea how to put it down.

For so long, being strong was not really a choice. It was what I had to do.

I had to keep going.

I had to function.

I had to survive.

I had to find a way through things I never should have had to go through in the first place.

People often talk about strength like it is always something beautiful.

Sometimes it is.

But sometimes strength is exhausting.

Sometimes being strong for too long means you never learned how to rest without feeling guilty.

Sometimes it means you feel responsible for fixing everything.

Sometimes it means you keep carrying things that were never yours because putting them down feels unfamiliar.

Sometimes it means everyone sees how strong you are, but very few people understand how tired you are.

That is where I find myself now.

I do not think I want to be praised for being strong all the time.

I think I want to learn what it feels like not to have to be.

I want to learn how to let something go without believing I failed.

I want to learn that someone else’s actions are not automatically my responsibility.

I want to learn that resting is not giving up.

And maybe healing is not about becoming stronger and stronger.

Maybe sometimes healing is finally realizing you do not have to carry everything anymore.

I’m not tired because I’m weak.

I’m tired because I’ve had to survive for too long.

And I think I’m finally ready to learn that I do not have to prove my strength every single day.

I have carried enough.