Unmuted

I’m tired. 

Not the kind of tired that sleep fixes, but the kind that has settled deep in my heart after carrying the weight of betrayal, injustice and disappointment in silence for too long, and knowing that I had to keep going anyway, no matter how heavy it got. I have had to stand in rooms where the truth of my word was questioned, my kindness was mistaken for weakness and my patience stretched far beyond what most people could imagine or indeed endure themselves. Yet somehow, even after everything that has been done to me, my heart still searches for goodness. That matters more than I ever realised.  

I did not deserve the wrongs done to me. I did not deserve to be attacked, hurt, dismissed, overlooked, used, targeted, manipulated or made to feel small for loving sincerely and trying to do right by others. There were and still are countless moments I could have allowed bitterness to consume me. Moments when anger would have been easier, and possibly more fleetingly satisfying, than compassion. Moments when closing my heart completely and building impenetrable walls would have felt safer. But I did not allow myself to become cruel just because cruelty has continually reached out and affected my life. I now recognise that is one of my strengths.  

My fight for justice and change is not weakness disguised as softness. It is courage disguised as grace. 

There is real power in the way I continue to rise without losing myself to the hate continually cast upon me. Power in the restraint I show when revenge would be simpler. Power in choosing integrity while carrying wounds nobody else can fully measure. The world often celebrates loud victories which mask the cruel acts carried out to gain them, but there is something extraordinary about the quiet decision to remain human after being repeatedly hurt.  

The people who targeted me and continue to underestimate me only saw my gentleness; they did not recognise my endurance and the resolve which lives within me. 

So let me say this aloud... 

People should no longer confuse my kindness with surrender. 

I am allowed to defend myself.  

I am allowed to speak my truth clearly.  

I am allowed to set boundaries without guilt.  

I am allowed to walk away from people who repeatedly and deliberately wound me and still wish them healing from afar.  

Protecting my peace is not becoming hard-hearted, it is learning that my soul deserved safety too.  

My story has only started to unfold. The pain I carry today will not always feel this heavy or relentless. One day I will look back and realise that the very battles meant to break me actually taught me resilience, wisdom, self-respect and discernment when dealing with others. I will keep going. Not to prove my worth to those who failed to see it, but because my life deserves joy beyond survival. There are peaceful times waiting for me. Honest love. Laughter which is genuine. I see a future where my nervous system finally unclenches and I realise I am no longer fighting just to make it through a singular day, hour by hour, minute by minute.  

Until then I have learnt to be patient with myself. Healing has not been a linear process for me. Some days I feel strong, other days grief rises and revisits unexpectedly. I now understand that neither erases nor diminishes my progress. This is not a race. I am not falling behind because I still hurt sometimes. I am healing because I choose to continue despite the pain caused by the actions of others, such as the hate campaign against me.  

I choose to remember that, above all else. My kindness is not the reason people hurt me. Their choices belong to them. My kindness belongs to me. And overall hate is taught, but love is chosen. 

I will never allow this world to convince me to abandon the very qualities that make me rare. As I grow, I allow my heart to become wiser, not colder. I am softer in safe places. Where necessary, I am stronger and more discerning but never emptied of love.  

I have survived things that once made me question whether I would ever feel whole again. I have survived actions where those that dispensed the hate, wonder how I ever survived their insidious malevolence. I am still here… fighting, healing and becoming.  

I am incredibly proud of my compassion and unwavering belief that kindness combined with strength is my superpower. I celebrate that and I’m grateful that my heart has remained soft and whole.   

I’m tired, but I will not stop.