Just Because I’m Quiet Doesn’t Mean I’m Fine
Let me clear something up real quick.
I don’t perform my pain.
I don’t cry loudly, overshare publicly, or fall apart so people know I’m struggling.
So yes people assume I’m “good.”
But what they don’t see is how much I carry quietly.
How much I process alone.
How often I sit with things instead of spilling them everywhere.
And honestly? That’s where it hurts.
Some people only know how to respond to pain when it’s loud, dramatic, or disruptive. They’ll show up for chaos but not for calm suffering. They’ll call to vent, text to unload, and say “I’m going through things too”… yet somehow never pause to ask how I’m holding up.
Words without presence still feel lonely.
Being strong all the time still gets heavy.
And always being the listener without being poured into is draining.
Midweek truth:
My pain is real even when I express it calmly.
I don’t need to break down to deserve care.
And I’m learning that not everyone who has access to me deserves emotional intimacy.
I’m no longer over-showing up where encouragement is missing.
Dee Bloomingmoore 🌺