Not everything fragile breaks. Some things fragile become sacred instead.
We’ve been taught to measure strength by what resists, what endures, what never bends. But there’s another kind of strength—quieter, subtler—the kind that feels everything and keeps soft anyway. I’ve known tenderness that withstood storms more brutal than rage.
I’ve watched gentleness survive where hardness would have shattered. Some hearts aren’t whole because they were never hurt.
They’re whole because they were honest—and healing never asked them to be anything else. So if you’re holding something delicate—grief, hope, trust—don’t be ashamed of its shape.
It’s not weakness - It’s a sacred resilience - And that's more than enough
I relate after getting through a personal dispute to land softly in a mutual caring nest. Sometimes we are our own worst enemy when we think the worst about the unknown. Then it raises it's head and speaks the words to bring an understanding and erase all the hard feelings thought. Inner peace is found and the softness begins. That softness remains through the longest silence unquestioned.
So if you’re holding something delicate—grief, hope, trust—don’t be ashamed of its shape.
Yes. I realised the importance of my brain child that doesn't get recognised like a real child and I never would get treated like a mother. And travelled 14 years amidst all kinds of torture.. but now my brain children have grown up and they're going to start to reproduce.
