We, the Strong Ones

The world has no idea what to do with us. So it leaves us alone — buried under assumptions and expectations that were never ours to carry, but somehow always end up on our shoulders anyway.

Today is one of those days I have to be strong again. It’s not a choice, really. It’s just the only option I’ve ever been left with.

Behind the smiling face, the childish jokes, the person who looks so happy and so content — there is a version of me nobody has ever met.

We say we don’t have anyone, and that’s why we rely on ourselves completely. But this self-sufficiency was never a choice we made. It’s a habit that was forced on us, one that now keeps us alive, keeps us moving, keeps us going.

Strong people always show up. Especially in the moments we’re supposed to fall apart — when we’re allowed to be soft, to be fragile, to need someone — we still show up like rock. And somehow, everyone starts to believe that’s simply who we are.

We showed up strong through grief, through uncertainty, through the times we needed someone the most. But no one stayed. Even in the moment we gave our whole heart away, we were left in silence, without an explanation — and we didn’t even dare ask what we’d done to deserve it. Because we’re the strong ones. Strong ones don’t get to ask.

We’ve watched the people we loved most walk away, break us, and leave. We’ve questioned our worth, our choices, our judgment. We’ve hit rock bottom — and then, somehow, gotten up and started walking again.

We’ve been the most afraid, in the sleepless nights and the anxious days. We’ve shivered. We’ve cried our hearts out in rooms with no one in them.

We survive on chai like it’s medicine, and a tub of ice cream like it’s therapy. We have a playlist built for exactly these nights — the kind that pulls us back together one song at a time.

In short: we know how to hold ourselves together, even when nothing else is holding us.

People assume we’re less sensitive, and that’s why we’re strong. The truth is the opposite — the most sensitive are the strongest, because we’ve spent our whole lives putting everyone else first. We get called “independent” so people can enjoy the freedom our unconditional love gives them, without ever noticing the cost we pay for it.

Today is one of those days again. So today, I am strong with a cup of chai, a tub of ice cream, tears I can’t quite explain, and this page. Because today is a day I needed a shoulder and found none. Today I missed my father terribly. Today I am trying to mend a heart I keep telling myself has already healed — and it decided, without warning, to ache again.

Today, all the emotional clouds decided to rain at once: anxiety, self-doubt, the feeling of never being enough, loneliness, and the sense of having no direction. Today is a day I want to disappear from everyone and just cry — because being strong, honestly, has cost me more than anyone will ever know.

But I am strong. So I will show up for myself again — stronger than what I feel right now. But just for this moment, let me be exactly what I am: a woman who needs a little love, a tight hug, and someone to hold her and remind her she’s safe.

And maybe that’s what strength really is—not ever breaking, but allowing yourself to feel every crack and still choosing tomorrow with one cup of chai, one deep breath and whole tub of ice cream. And if no one reminds me today, let this page do it instead.

A little love to myself

Shweta