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100
Conference Assistant and Event Hostess @ Bingham University
Rejection of Sympathy
<p>I hate sympathy! </p><p>The way eyes turn soft and concerned when they see me breaking... </p><p>The way hands reach out like I’m a fragile thing... </p><p>Don’t pat my back. Don’t tell me “it’ll be okay.” cos it wouldn't...</p><p>Your words feel like salt,</p><p>not balm...</p><p><br/></p><p>I cry ugly... with swollen eyes, trembling lips and hands, </p><p>and you stand there waiting to feel useful?? </p><p>For what reason exactly? </p><p>I don’t need saving.</p><p>I need space.</p><p><br/></p><p>Let me frown. Let me smile through pain.</p><p>Let me wail in my own space.</p><p>Let me wrestle with my own storms without a crowd surrounding me with unnecessary advice that I don't need.. </p><p><br/></p><p>Because sympathy feels like spotlight,</p><p>and I hate being seen when I’m breaking.</p><p>I’m not made for pity,</p><p>I’m made for silence.</p><p><br/></p><p>Let me cry in the dark,</p><p>where the only witness is my heartbeat... </p><p>steady, defiant,</p><p>surviving.</p>
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