I WEAR THE MASK!

You’d never know it by looking at me. You’ll never know that today, just getting out of bed was a victory. The smile I gave at the store was the only one I had in me. My forced facial expression, my clothes, my routine - I’m still breaking. Because grief doesn’t always look like tears. Sometimes it looks like forced laughter. Like perfectly turned out. Like showing up, nodding politely, and answering, “I’m doing okay,” when I’m really not. I wear the mask to protect myself. To keep from making people uncomfortable. To keep from breaking down in the middle of a meeting, a dinner, a day. But underneath? I'm screaming. I'm trying my best to hold it together with threadbare hope and sheer willpower. I'm carrying the weight of the person I lost in everything I do - quietly, invisibly, relentlessly. So, if I seem short today, or quiet, or like I'm “not myself"... If I cancel plans or I don’t answer your text... If I smile but it doesn't quite reach my eyes... Please remember I am grieving behind a mask. Because the truth is... Grief doesn't need to look a certain way to be real. It’s real in the silence. Real in pretending. Real in “I’m doing fine” what it really means "I'm just surviving." Keeping busy every day is my survival and that's the bravest thing I can do right now.