Don’t Worry About It.

“I’m fine.”
“It’s nothing.”
“Don’t worry about it.”

Sometimes those words aren’t strength.
They’re just a habit.

A way of staying small.
Of not taking up space.
Of keeping the room comfortable—even when something inside you isn’t.

A lot of us learned early that being low-maintenance was safer.
That naming what we feel might shift the mood.
That needing something could make us a burden.

So we swallow it.
We smooth things over.
We tell ourselves it doesn’t matter.

And maybe it doesn’t—right away.

But over time, those moments stack quietly.
Unspoken.
Unshared.

This isn’t about forcing honesty.
Or turning every moment into a conversation.

It’s noticing how often “it’s nothing” becomes the place things go to disappear.
How small moments stay with us when they’re never named.

Over time, you don’t lose the feeling.
You just carry it alone.

And you’re rarely the only one doing it.