Taught to Be Tough, Not Okay

They said,
“Be strong.”
So I broke
quietly.

They said,
“Be a man.”
So I buried
every tear
in my throat.

They said,
“Don’t talk about it.”
So I learned
how to smile
with a storm
behind my teeth.

I was taught
how to fight,
but not how to feel.
How to stand,
but not how to ask
for a hand.

I stitched my pain
into silence.
Wore it
like a shield
no one could see.

And the world
clapped
at how “resilient”
I seemed.

But inside,
I was screaming
through cracks
no one cared to notice.

Until one day,
I whispered,
“I’m not okay.”
And no one
punished me.
The world didn’t end.

It softened.

And maybe,
just maybe
healing
starts with
unlearning
everything we were forced
to fake.