🌧 Post Two — “The Things You Weren’t Supposed to Feel”

They told you to be grateful.

For the roof, for the meals, for the chaos disguised as care.

They told you to smile when your heart clenched and call it love when it hurt.

But there were nights you lay awake wondering why love felt like walking barefoot across glass.

You wanted to cry, but the sound of your own pain scared you.

So you swallowed it whole — every tear, every question, every truth that didn’t fit their story.

You learned how to laugh through burning.

You learned that pretending was safer than being seen.

And even now, when someone reaches for you with kindness, a part of you still flinches — not because you don’t want love, but because you were taught to fear what came with it.

So this is your reminder, little one:

You were never too much for feeling.

They were just too small to hold it.