I’m strong, but I’m dog tired

I’m tired, but that too is too little, too flat to describe the tiredness that lies in my bones.

I am exhausted from being strong, acting like I have everything under control, and being there for everything and everyone.

I never intended to be that type of woman, but through the bitter choices and sweet idealizations that I don’t want to let anyone down, it seems to me like I’m exhausted and lost and I wonder if anyone will ever be will be there for me as I was for her.

Maybe it happened accidentally because the biggest irony is that when others look at me, they say I’m strong. They see me as competent and capable, but inside I would never ascribe these qualities to myself because while they see me steadfast and calm, I shiver inside.

I’ve tried, I’ve really tried Every morning, despite my exhaustion, I still do it.

Even if I sag my shoulders and my eyes darken with tears if I feel things too deeply, I breathe in and tell myself that everything will be fine – whether I feel that way or not.

I suspect I tried to be strong before realizing what women were called like me or that we had our own genre: the strong, independent, self-sufficient woman.

Sounds good, doesn’t it? I think when we are told what to become, it is no surprise that we manifest these qualities.

But what’s the problem with this oversimplified definition of a woman? The world actually believes us.

I haven’t met any of these goddesses who, while many would refer to them as such, don’t ask for help, support, guidance, or someone to just lean on in the end. Someone she can rely on, knowing full well that she doesn’t have to be anything other than her beautiful self.

The truth is we can sit here with our glass of Pinot Grigio and say we don’t need a man or a warrior, but the reality is that we wouldn’t say that if we didn’t try to convince ourselves of this.

The lesson we can all learn is that there is no shame in needing someone. There is no mistake in saying, “I cannot do all of this by myself. “There is nothing wrong with thinking that two strong hearts are better than one.

I’m so tired. I’m strong, but I’m dog tired. I’m tired of living up to this ideal. More than that – I’m just tired of being strong.

I long to be taken care of, not financially because I’d never thought of that before, but I want a strong arm around my shoulders, someone who can hold me no matter what the storm was that day.

I’m done pretending to do something. I’m done pretending to be so impressive.

I’m just done with being strong when most of the time reality isn’t like that. I feel like I’m not being myself, but playing a farce of feminism.

It shouldn’t be downplayed who we are and what we deserve as women, but it is also something to say about wanting to be hugged for what we are and what is most natural for us. There’s something to be said when you’re soft.

These words are the ones I ran away from for so long because it seemed like they had a negative connotation. I should try to lead the lines and smash the glass ceiling, right? It shouldn’t be enough for me in this life to just love and be loved.

And so I spun my own misery by pretending to be strong. Everyone believed me at some point. As this happened, a wound opened in my heart with the devastating knowledge that I could forge it for as long as possible.

I give up.

Not because I failed, but because I learned.

Is there anything I can do or be someone I want to be right now? Yes – but does that mean I’m meant to be? No, I can’t do everything. At this point, I’m done trying.

I’m done with being that infallible woman, able to do anything and whether at work, with family or friends, or even in my role as a mother. I just can’t go on like this any longer.

I can’t pretend I have this ability to do anything and not just that, but with a smile on my face. I can’t pretend I don’t need anyone to help – that’s all I want.
Life is not about faking it until we can.

It’s about letting ourselves become real with what we need and want and then being ready to bleed for it.

It’s more about feeling than thinking and it’s about just indulging in the passions in our hearts and the softness of arms that feel right at home. What’s the point without these things if you don’t need another?

Maybe over time, I’ll be more and more immune to being someone other people want to see, or maybe it’s the reality that I’ve never been good at it. But it looks like I’m so exhausted from pretending that I’m strong.

I am not weak, but sometimes it is the strongest of us who need someone the most.

I see where I am now.

Don’t we all need someone who is just a little bit stronger than us? Someone who can kiss it where it hurts and hug us like nothing else.

Someone to remind us that we don’t have to be that strong – at least not always.