We live in a world that praises strength. Keep it together. Push through. Don’t cry at work. Don’t fall apart in front of your kids. Be the rock, the stable one, the smile-every-day woman.
But can I tell you something from my heart to yours?
You don’t have to be strong all the time.
I used to think that admitting I was struggling meant I was weak. I wore my resilience like armor. I smiled when I wanted to break. I said, “I’m fine” when I was anything but. And the more I bottled things up, the more distant I felt from myself—and from God.
The truth is, even Jesus wept. He didn’t hide his sorrow. He didn’t pretend everything was okay. So why do we feel like we have to?
There came a time when I couldn’t hold it all in anymore. I broke down, and instead of shame, I felt relief. I finally gave myself permission to feel. I opened my journal and wrote without filters—about the pain, the anger, the exhaustion. I poured it out before God. And in those pages, something shifted.
Not because my circumstances changed, but because I finally allowed myself to be real.
This journal is not a place for you to perform strength—it’s a place to tell the truth. If you’re tired, write that. If you’re scared, write that. If you feel lost, unheard, forgotten—put it on the page. You don’t have to be wise, or healed, or brave. Just honest.
Sometimes the strongest thing we can do is admit, “I’m not okay today.”
Your softness is not weakness. Your tears are not failure. God is not disappointed in your brokenness—He meets you there.
So if you’re holding it all in, I invite you to lay it down.
Let this journal be your safe space. Let it be the place you fall apart so you can begin to come back together.
You are still worthy on the days when you feel undone. You are still held, still seen, still loved—especially then.
Take off the mask. Let yourself breathe.
You don’t have to be strong today. You just have to be you.