Growing up, strength was a badge of honor—something you earned by suppressing your feelings and pushing through, no matter what. We weren’t always taught how to feel, just how to function. Crying was dramatic. Talking about pain made people uncomfortable. And softness? That was a luxury we didn’t think we could afford.

Especially as Millennials, and for generations before us, the message was clear: Be strong or be silent.

But somewhere along the way, that strength started to feel less like a superpower and more like a heavy weight I never asked to carry.

I’ve come to realize I don’t want to be strong all the time.

There, I said it.

I want to cry when I need to. I want to feel deeply without shame. I want to say, “I’m not okay,” and not feel like I’m failing at life. Because the truth is, being strong all the time is exhausting—and it’s not sustainable.

We were conditioned to perform strength, not practice healing. And that has a cost.

Suppressing our emotions doesn’t make them disappear—it just delays the pain and deepens the wound. It disconnects us from ourselves and from the people who want to show up for us. It teaches us to suffer in silence and call it resilience.

And what hurts even more is when our pain gets compared to someone else’s—like unless our world is falling apart completely, we don’t have the right to be sad or overwhelmed. I’ve been in moments where I’ve shared how I was feeling, only to be met with, “At least it’s not as bad as what they’re going through.” That kind of comparison doesn’t comfort—it dismisses. It tells us our struggle isn’t valid because it’s not the “worst.”

But pain isn’t a competition.
And struggle doesn’t need permission to be real.

Feeling overwhelmed, even when things “could be worse,” doesn’t make you weak. It makes you human.

But now? I’m unlearning.

Unlearning the belief that crying is weakness.
Unlearning the idea that needing help makes me less capable.
Unlearning the performance of perfection in exchange for real peace.

Softness isn’t the opposite of strength. It’s a necessary part of being whole. There is courage in vulnerability. There is strength in rest. There is power in saying “I’m tired” and giving yourself permission to be—not just do.

So if you’ve been carrying the burden of always having it together, this is your reminder that you don’t have to. Not every day. Not every moment. You’re allowed to fall apart. You’re allowed to ask for support. You’re allowed to just… be human.

Let’s stop measuring our worth by how much we can carry and start honoring ourselves by what we’re willing to lay down.

Because sometimes, the bravest thing we can do is put the burden down and choose softness instead.

Until next time, Keep Growing and Thriving on your Journey

xo, Kieks