Grief comes in different forms and somehow, it finds its way more often to those with the biggest hearts.
I remember growing up as a bright, ambitious little girl full of dreams, full of hope, ready to explore the world and soak in everything life had to offer. I thought life would be a beautiful adventure. I was raised to be kind, to care, to give no matter how little or how much I had. I believed deeply that helping others would always come back in blessings. That good things happen to good people.
But then adulthood arrived. And it was nothing like I expected.
Adulthood came with scammers. With liars. With broken promises and empty words. It came with people who would smile in your face, and stab you in the heart the moment you turned around. And the worst part? It hurts the most when you trust people who take your kindness and use it against you when they take your fragile heart and try their best to shatter it.
I used to give from a place of love even financially. I helped people, not thinking about gender or worth. People warned me not to spend money on men who didn’t deserve me. But I ignored the warnings. I told myself, “They’re human too. Why not help?”
Then reality hit. Hard.
I found myself wishing I had listened. Wishing I had kept more of myself for myself. Because it gets to a point where you don’t just feel broke you feel empty. Not because you don’t have friends, but because you don’t have support. The funds are gone. The mental strength is drained. Your thoughts start racing, your heart beats like it’s trying to escape your chest, and there’s no one to turn to when you’re down.
Not completely, though. Because in all that darkness, there are still a few good souls people who stick with you no matter what. And for those ones, I am truly thankful.
But still, if I’m being honest? Adulthood sucks.
Being in your twenties feels like standing in the middle of a storm with no umbrella. You’re expected to hold everything together your emotions, your dreams, your mistakes. One wrong move, and the world turns its eyes on you. They won’t ask what you’re going through. They won’t offer a hand. They’ll just laugh, whisper, and watch. Until one day, you gather what’s left of yourself, stand up, and keep going like nothing ever happened.
And through all this there’s death. Watching silently from the sidelines. We never know when it will strike. We just hope and pray not to die young. We want to live long enough to see the life we dreamed of, to see our children living the dreams we couldn’t.
But sometimes it feels like our generation is cursed. We watch our friends die young. We bury more people than we should. It’s like life is on fast forward and no one’s guaranteed a tomorrow.
Still, we hold on.
We keep going. Even with tired hands and broken hearts. Because somehow, despite it all, there’s still a part of us that believes in a brighter future.
That’s life.
Not perfect. Not fair. But ours.
So we let go. We breathe.
We move forward even when it hurts.
Because giving up? That’s not in our nature.