Some people become strong not because life was kind to them, but because it wasn’t. They learn early how to listen, how to notice small changes in mood, how to offer comfort without being asked. They become the ones who remember birthdays, check in late at night, and stay when things get heavy. To the world, they are kind. But underneath that kindness is a quiet history of learning how to survive without the care they deserved. When you grow up needing support that never fully came, something inside you adapts. You become what you were missing. Taking care of others becomes more than an act of love — it becomes a language of healing. Every time you show up for someone, you are gently rewriting your own story. You are telling the younger version of yourself: You mattered. You always did. This doesn’t mean your pain disappears. But it softens. It finds meaning. It turns into empathy instead of bitterness, tenderness instead of walls. So if you are someone who gives easily, wh...
A well-read woman is a dangerous creature🧐