It Takes Strength to Be Soft

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There were times I thought I had to be hard to survive.

Guarded. Sharp. Distant. Unaffected. Like the less I felt, the safer I’d be.

And to be fair—that strategy worked, for a while. It protected me. It helped me endure. But over time, it cost me the very things I longed for: intimacy, trust, connection, peace.

Now I see it differently:

Softness is strength.

It takes courage to stay open when you’ve been hurt.
It takes resilience to feel deeply without drowning.
It takes trust to say, “This matters to me,” and risk not being met.

I’m learning to honour the parts of me that feel.
That care. That ache. That speak gently.

Because they’re not weak.
They’re wise.

And they’re teaching me how to live without armour.

Not unprotected—just unguarded, on purpose.