She Deserves To Bloom.

I hope you see her, how her hands shake when she laughs too loud, how she says “I’m fine” then falls into silence, like it’s the only thing holding her together. I hope you notice the tears she hides at night, the ones she blames on “allergies” while folding laundry, her voice fading beneath the hum of the fridge. I hope you see the scars she calls “old stories,” the ones she touches when the world feels too heavy, and her smile feels more like a shield than joy. I hope you recognize the strength in her quiet victories, the mornings she gets out of bed, the way she wears joy like armor, and how her laughter holds battles you’ll never see. I hope you catch her in those quiet moments, not at 3 a.m. in the kitchen, but in the soft stillness of her presence, where she lets herself be free, even if only for a little while. And when she lets you in, I hope you don’t flinch at the weight she carries, But more than anything, I hope she stops apologizing for the space she takes up, and learns to love herself without fear or shame. She’s spent so long caring for everyone else that she’s forgotten how to bloom. Help her remember, She deserves that much.