Hello Family... hope you're all doing well. Welcome to my blog for this prompt.
The truth is that for me, I think one of the main reasons people hide their pain behind laughter is that they don't want to become a burden to anyone.
I know what it feels like to have something weighing on your heart but still tell yourself that other people have enough problems of their own. You want to talk, but before you even open your mouth, you start thinking, What if I'm disturbing them? What if they think I'm complaining too much? What if they have their own problems and I'm here adding mine?
So you keep quiet.
You laugh when someone says something funny. You reply to messages with your usual energy. When someone asks how you're doing, you say, "I'm fine," even when deep down, you know that isn't the truth.
Sometimes, you even make jokes about things that hurt you because laughing about them feels easier than explaining how much they affect you.
Being a teacher makes me understand this even more. Every morning, I walk into my classroom, and the children are there with their little stories, questions, and excitement. One is telling me about a new bag, another is complaining about a missing pencil, and someone else just wants my attention.
They expect me to smile, teach them, sing with them, and make the classroom lively. And I do my best because I don't want whatever I'm going through to affect them.
Most days, the laughter comes naturally. But there are days when my body is present, my voice is working, and I'm doing everything I am supposed to do, yet my mind is somewhere else entirely, nobody knows.
I finish teaching, smile at the children, and carry on with my day. To anyone watching, they would think I am just my normal self. They have no idea that the same person who made them laugh a few minutes ago might be struggling with her own thoughts.
And that's the strange thing about hiding pain. Sometimes, we become so good at it that people don't even think to ask if we're okay.
But there's something else I've noticed about myself, a friend can come to me crying, I wouldn't look at her and think she is a burden. I will want to listen. I would try to comfort her. Even if I didn't have the right words, I would want her to know she wasn't alone.
But when it comes to my own problems, I suddenly become a different person. I start calculating how much of my pain other people can handle. I usually tell myself to be strong, to manage it quietly, and to stop expecting people to understand what I'm going through.
I don't know why is it so easy to give other people the comfort i struggle to accept, I mean I van sit beside someone who is hurting and remind them that they matter, yet struggle to believe the same thing when I am the ones having a difficult time? Honestly sometimes I begin to wonder all these things.
I think some of us have become too used to being the strong ones. We are the people others come to when life gets difficult. We listen, encourage, make jokes, and find ways to help. Before long, everyone gets used to seeing us that way.
So, when we are the ones who need help, we don't even know how to ask for it.
And just like that, we become our own hiding place.
But the truth is that , someone can be a strong person and still need another person to hold him together sometimes.
You can be the person who encourages everyone else and still have days when you need encouragement. You can make people laugh and still cry when you're alone. None of these things makes you weak or less of the person people know you to be.
And honestly, I think we need to stop treating our pain as if it is an inconvenience to everyone around us.
The people who genuinely care about us may not always know what to say or how to help, but we shouldn't decide on their behalf that our struggles are too much for them.
Image by Google Gemini.
