To the big girls in the house

I don’t get to cry about it. I dare not. I’m supposed to be the strong one; the one who holds everything together when it feels like everything is falling apart. It’s exhausting, not going to lie. Pretending that I have it all under wraps when, inside, I’m one minute away from a meltdown. 

But what happens when you’re the one with the “common sense,” the one who thinks things through, the one behind the logistics, the one who keeps everything running smoothly — like some invisible thread holding the fabric of it all intact? Or at least the one everyone thinks is all that? 

When the truth is, while I’m holding down the line, my heart is shredding at the thought of what it all means.

Am I even appreciated? Is it all in vain? Does my effort make a difference?

I can only watch as the weight of the world falls on my shoulders. And I wonder how long I can carry it before I collapse…under pressure. Every day I put on this mask, this face of cool, calm, and collected — that I am certainty not. All because one day I became that person, and now they still need me to be that someone that I would never even fantasize about.

In my solitude, I’ve had my moments of revelations. The quiet moments when no one is looking and I’m no one’s fortitude or go-to. In those moments, I’m not the strong one. And I’m okay with that. I am just a person; unsure, scared, uncertain about a future I can barely imagine. In those moments, I am just a human. 

But still, I have to keep going. I have to keep my head up, smile through the pain, and step in when no one else will. I fill in the gaps for the people who should have been there, who should have helped carry the load, but choose not. And I do it without a second thought — not only because that’s what’s expected of me but because I happen to be an empath. 

So, to the girls who have had to be the big girl in the house, you’re definitely not an outcast. You’re not on your own. It is an error; a glitch society has failed to fix. Truth is, without you, half of those made-up scenarios, or the world, or their lives wouldn’t function just as deliberately fine.