I’ve been thinking a lot about the way life tries to harden us. Loss, rejection, betrayal. They chip away at our softness until one day we wake up realizing we’ve built walls where there used to be windows.
I know this because I’ve had every reason to let the world turn me cold. Losing my mom young, growing up without a steady female figure to show me how to be soft and strong at the same time. Learning to navigate family rejection and stepfamily dynamics that made me feel like I didn’t belong anywhere. Every experience whispered, “Close your heart. Don’t trust anyone. Don’t hope too much.”
And for a while, I listened.
But here’s what I’ve learned: closing yourself off doesn’t stop the hurt, it just stops the warmth from getting in. The same walls that keep you safe also keep out joy, connection, and love.
I’ve had to teach myself how to stay open despite everything. To let people in even when it scares me. To write honestly about grief and loneliness because that’s how healing starts. To remind myself that softness isn’t weakness, it’s courage.
If you’ve been through your own storms, I want you to know: you’re allowed to keep your tenderness. You’re allowed to laugh loudly, to love deeply, to trust again, even when the world tells you to armor up.
Because every time we choose warmth over bitterness, we win.
And I’m not letting this world turn me cold. Neither should you.
