Screaming loud, but is it loud enough?
The voice in my head is deafening, filled with anxiousness, full of words I never speak. There’s a will to scream, a need to be heard. And yet, I find myself wondering: can they hear me? Do they feel the tremble behind my smile? The ache beneath the strength?
The voice tells me yes they hear you. But for how long will I keep roaring in silence before someone truly listens?
They see me as the strong one. The one who carries it all, the one who rises, who inspires, who holds it together. The one who doesn’t crack, doesn’t cry, doesn’t break. The expectations are heavy, and the performance… exhausting.
But the lioness within me, she feels. She has emotion, depth, fire. She stands in the shadows, watching, waiting, silent. Not because she is weak, but because vulnerability has become a dangerous gamble. Will they care? Will they understand?
Or will they write their own version of my story, never giving me the pen?
They see her strength but not her stillness. They admire her resilience, but ignore her restlessness. Yet deep within, beneath the layers of “being enough,” a force brews. A fire is forming. And when it comes, it won’t ask permission. It will not whisper. It will roar.
Because the lioness wasn’t meant to stay in the shadows.
She was born to rise.
Loud. Unapologetic. And finally, free.
Sincerely Me, Letters From the In-Between 