The World Hit Her First

There’s a difference between being composed and being closed.I’ve done both. When I’m composed, I have room for you.When I’m hiding, there’s barely room for me.

🐾 𝑻𝒘𝒐 𝒕𝒉𝒊𝒏𝒈𝒔 𝒕𝒐 𝒌𝒏𝒐𝒘 𝒊𝒇 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒘𝒂𝒏𝒕 𝒕𝒐 𝒍𝒐𝒗𝒆 𝒎𝒆:I don’t ask for reassurance often—but when it comes, it hits like a drug.Scratch me behind the ears—I’ll follow you around for hours. I’ve learned to be steady—after years of stumbling.I don’t need managing—but I do need respect.I carry what’s mine—some loads just took longer…

Sometimes it’s the only way we know how to hold something without breaking it.When words might shatter what’s soft, we may go quiet instead.It doesn’t mean we don’t care. It means we do.

On Saturdays,I make my own coffee.This Saturday,I woke up slow.But on any given Saturday…it’d be nice to pour two cups.Crawl back into bed for a wired cuddle.It’s Saturday, anyway—might as well play the day away.

One of the worst effects of betrayal isn’t that you stop trusting someone. It’s that you stop trusting yourself. Your internal “this is safe / this is real” meter gets scrambled. And once that happens, you don’t just become cautious—you become uncertain. You replay everything. You doubt your read on people. You wonder: If I…

We learned to stay quiet not because we don’t feel—but because no one showed us how to stay whole after speaking.This one’s about containment, and the cost of being misread.If you’ve ever wondered why a man stayed quiet when you wanted him to speak, this is sometimes why.Follow if this put words to something you’ve…