I always play the strong woman role. I’m always there when someone’s in need. I can wipe other’s tears. I can be a shoulder to cry on. I can punch the hell out of anyone who does wrong.
I am typically the tough and rough one. But what if I stop and become the weaker one? Will anyone be there to hold my hand and help me stand?
People see what I show them. People think of me the way I want them to. People believe in whatever I say. But behind the mask I wear, I am a different person.
I worry, but no one knows. I cry, but no one hears. I bleed, but no one sees. I stumble, and behind the curtains, I fall. I heal my own wounds and cover the scars with decency. I over laugh my tears. I am faking it all.
But what if I stop pretending? What if all those ‘I cans’ becomes ‘I can’ts’? What if those ‘I’ll help you’ becomes ‘help me’? What if ‘leave me alone’ becomes ‘please don’t leave me’? Will anyone stay? Will anyone be beside me through it all?
Those questions haunt me, but I’d rather leave them hanging. If there would be someone in the room that would be left standing, that would be me. Though it’s hard, I can’t afford to sit down and just cry over spilled milk. ‘Cause my eyes were made to be of a great fire of courage.
My lips were made to be of a huge fountain of hope. My ears were made to be a catching basin of troubles. My shoulders were pillows. My backbone is faith. My hands were iron and feather.
My feet were strong gold. I walk with elegance through decency and knowledge.
I climb mountains of trials through bravery and perseverance. Although I can, I hope someone will hold me and help me up until the summit. Someone to see what’s behind my mask without even touching it. Someone to stop the tears before they even form. Someone whose heart is bigger than mine.
But rare is a man who can be stronger than this strong woman.