i bottled up so much i almost exploded

how growing up in silence made me scream inside

when i was little, i learned fast that crying made people uncomfortable. that getting angry made me dramatic. that asking for attention made me needy.so i stopped doing all of it.

i became the “good kid.” the one who didn’t talk back. the one who said “i’m fine” even when i was falling apart. i swallowed my feelings because i thought that’s what love required being easy to deal with. being small. being silent.

and now?
now i don’t know how to speak up when something hurts.
now i apologize when i cry.
now i feel guilty for taking up emotional space, even with people who love me.

i wasn’t taught how to feel i was taught how to manage other people’s feelings.
how to stay quiet when the house felt tense.
how to read someone’s mood the second they walked in the door.
how to stay calm even when everything in me wanted to scream.
how to perform stability, even when i was crumbling inside.

and i’m tired.
i’m tired of pretending i don’t care when i do.
tired of laughing things off that actually hurt.
tired of acting like i’m not still carrying so many things that were never mine to hold.

sometimes people call me “chill” or “fun” or “strong” or “mature” and it’s weird, because they mean it as a compliment. but inside, i feel like a locked door. like someone who never got the chance to fall apart safely. like i skipped some step in childhood that everyone else seemed to get: the one where you learn that your feelings are valid, even when they’re messy.

so now i’m trying to relearn.
i’m trying to let myself cry without shame.
i’m trying to sit with anger instead of stuffing it down.
i’m trying to say “that hurt me” without immediately following it with “but it’s okay.”
i’m trying to believe that i don’t have to earn love by being easy to love.

i want to be a person who feels. fully. openly.
not just for other people but for myself.

busy but here,

chloe