The Art of Holding Back

Being the oldest means you don’t get to fall apart.

At least, that’s what I’ve always told myself because if I break, then everything underneath me breaks too, and I can’t let that happen.

So I hold it together.

I make sure there’s food on the table, that the others get where they need to go, that they know they can lean on me.

I carry the weight because someone has to and if I’m honest, I wouldn’t even know who I am without it.

People think I’m strong, but really I’ve just gotten good at holding back.

Holding back tears, the fears and holding back the urge to say I can’t do this anymore.

I swallow it down, smile when I need to and keep going. 

The thing no one tells you is how heavy it gets the longer you carry it and the more it presses into your chest.

Sometimes I wonder what would happen if I let it all out at once.

Would it crush me or would it crush them?

I don’t cry in front of anyone, not because I don’t want to, but because I’m afraid of what it would mean.

If the oldest falls, who will be there to catch the rest?

So I keep practicing the art of holding back and maybe one day, when it’s safe enough, I’ll finally let go.

But for now they need me to be steady, for me to stay strong and that’s enough to keep me standing.

Journal Prompts

• When have you felt like you had to be strong for others, even when it was hard?

• What emotions do you hold back because you’re afraid of how others would react?

• Who do you trust enough to let see you cry?