Soft Me

For the longest time, I thought I had to be hard.

Life had taught me through heartbreak, disappointments, and unspoken goodbyes that softness only led to pain. So, I built walls. I stopped saying how I felt. I learned to smile even when my heart was heavy. I told myself that if I cared less, I would hurt less.

But the truth is, I was never meant to be cold.

I miss the way I used to laugh without overthinking. The way I reached for people without hesitation. The way I loved freely, without waiting to see if they would love me back.

Somewhere along the way, I mistook survival for living.

Then one day, I saw a child crying in the middle of a busy street, ignored by rushing strangers. Without thinking, I knelt down, wiped their tears, and told them it was okay. And in that moment, I remembered this is who I am.

I am soft, but I am not weak.

I feel deeply, and that is my strength. I love fully, even when it hurts. I still believe in kindness, even when the world tells me not to.

Softness is not something to be ashamed of. It takes courage to stay gentle in a world that has tried to make me hard.

So no, I won’t apologize for the way my heart beats.

I won’t hide the way I care.

I won’t pretend to be anything other than who I am.

I am soft.

And I am proud of it.

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