Drinking Matcha Because Saying “I’m so Tired”, Feels so Wrong
To confess that I am struggling feels like a disgrace, for there exists some unspoken decree that we must ever be strong, self-reliant, and seem as if we hold all things in control.
No weakness must be shown, no vulnerability laid bare.
Yet, in truth, I know all too well that most of us are merely pretending. We conceal our battles behind smiles and laughter. Beneath every smile, every laugh, every confident façade, there lies another side — one that is broken, wounded, and far from perfect.
The burden of perfection feels unbearable, making it difficult for me to tell anyone that I am not well, that I am struggling. That I am in need of a helping hand, for I am slowly sinking beneath the waves of hidden emotions.
Oftentimes, I fear that if I were to reveal the wounded, shattered, and vulnerable parts of myself, others would look down upon me, would judge me.
And so, I bury it all, sip my matcha, and suffer in silence, for I believe suffering must be hidden, must be borne in quietude.
But do you know? Hiding pain does not make it vanish. It only serves to make us feel more alone, more drowned, more suffocated, and broken.
In truth, admitting that we are struggling does not make us weak. It makes us who we truly are. It makes us human, for humanity was fashioned to feel more than just happiness. Each person endures moments of doubt, of fear, of weariness, and the image of perfection is merely that — an image.
Behind it, we are all warriors fighting our own battles.
It is alright not to be alright. To ask for help does not signify weakness; it signifies that we are strong and brave enough to share what we truly feel, for true strength lies not in pretending that all is perfect, well, and under control, but in being honest with ourselves and facing our struggles, rather than hiding them.
I hope that the next time you feel the need to remain strong, you will remember that it is alright to let your guard down.
