There’s a group of people I’ve been thinking about lately. A group rarely applauded, barely acknowledged, yet they carry more than many of us can imagine. This post is for them. You're worth every single letter in this piece. I’ll admit that I’ve been tempted to think of you as more than human. To assume that you don’t feel pain the way the rest of us do. That, instead of blood, it’s some kind of pressurized gas that flows through your veins. That you were molded, not from the soft matter like the rest of us, but from gravel mixed with cement. So we assume you're strong. We assume strength, even when weakness is tattooed across your forehead. We assume resilience, even when your shoulders slump under the weight of silent burdens. We assume you can handle it, even when the pressure at work is squeezing the life out of you. We assume you’re the provider, even when you’re scraping the bottom of an empty cup. And somehow, you still manage to give. To show up. To keep going. Sometim...
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