There are billions of women in the world with different faces, unique smiles, and diverse personalities, but there is one thing many of them have in common – the desire to be seen, not just physically, but emotionally.
It is true that a woman’s nature is to nurture, but what happens when no one is available to nurture her? What happens when feelings of loneliness, being an afterthought or side piece, become normal? When you are always the one showing up with the brightest jokes even when exhaustion has become how you live day to day?
In a friendship shared by two people, one person sacrifices for the other by constantly being available, showing up, and seeing the other person through, irrespective of their own feelings being pushed aside.
For instance, you become the giver – the one who gives wholeheartedly to others while neglecting yourself – while the other person becomes the receiver who never misses the opportunity to receive from you.
You could be involved in a campaign that requires moving from street to street in search of supporters, needing that one friend beside you, only for all she could say to be, “My skin is not good under the sun, sorry, I can’t make it.”
The feeling of disappointment would not even come close to how used you would feel in a friendship like that, where asking for a little feels like preparing to launch a rocket into space.
And sadly, that is what is seen in some friendships and relationships where “I” matters more than “you.”
There would be moments you almost speak up about how exhausted you are from always being available, always understanding, always showing up even when you are falling apart internally. But each time, you pull back. You convince yourself that maybe your feelings are too much, maybe everyone else’s problems matter more than yours.
You find yourself typing long messages explaining how drained and unseen you feel, only to erase them moments later because you do not want to seem needy or dramatic. So, you stay quiet and continue being “strong.”
And in moments like that, reality settles in quietly: you were strong for everyone, and nobody stopped to ask if you were okay.
What you eventually come to understand is that strength is not pretending to be okay while silently breaking. Real strength is allowing yourself to be honest about your pain and understanding that even the strongest people deserve to be checked on too.
