I thought I was so numb to my feelings that nothing could affect me. I had built up a thick wall around my emotions and convinced myself that I could withstand anything without feeling a thing. But then that one night happened, and everything changed.
I used to think I was too numb because I couldn’t feel anything. Life had thrown so much at me, and somewhere along the way, I learned to shut it all out. I built walls so high and so thick that even I couldn’t climb over them. I convinced myself that I was untouchable and invincible like nothing could penetrate the fortress I had constructed around my heart.
It worked for a while. I went through the motions of daily life, smiling when necessary, nodding in agreement, and laughing at the right times. But it was all a facade. Inside, I felt nothing. No joy, no sorrow, just an endless, empty void. I told myself this was strength, that feeling nothing meant I couldn’t be hurt. But deep down, I knew it wasn’t true.
Then that one night happened. The night when everything I had bottled up for so long came crashing down on me. I was alone in my room, surrounded by silence, when it hit me. All the pain, all the sadness, all the emotions I had buried deep within me erupted like a volcano. I felt a tear slip down my cheek, and then another, and another. Before I knew it, I was sobbing uncontrollably.
I had convinced myself I was too tired to feel anything, but at that moment, I realized I had been wrong. It wasn’t that I couldn’t feel; it was that I had been too scared to let myself feel. I had been running from my emotions for so long, and now they have finally caught up to me. And they overwhelmed me.
I cried all the times I had pretended to be okay when I wasn’t. I cried for all the pain I had ignored, for all the moments of joy I had missed out on because I was too afraid to let myself be vulnerable. I cried for the person I used to be before life had hardened me.
Crying that night showed me I wasn’t numb; I was exhausted. Exhausted from pretending everything was fine, from carrying the weight of unspoken pain. It was a wake-up call that my emotions were still there, just buried under layers of denial.
Why do we do this to ourselves? Why do we build these walls and pretend that everything is fine when it’s not? Why do we think that feeling nothing is better than feeling pain? At that moment, I realized that it was okay to feel. It was okay to be vulnerable, to be human. It was okay to cry.
I realized that feeling nothing was my mind’s way of protecting me from the pain I didn’t want to face. but, avoiding my emotions only made them grow stronger in the dark. The tears that night were my body’s way of saying, ‘It’s time to feel again.’
Numbness wasn’t the absence of emotions; it was a shield I used to survive. But shields can’t stay up forever. That night, my shield broke, and I had to face everything I’d been avoiding. It was painful, but it was also healing.
That night changed everything for me. It was like a dam had burst, and all the emotions I had kept locked away were finally free. It hurt, but it was also a relief. I felt like I could breathe again. For the first time in a long time, I felt alive.
How many of us walk around with our hearts encased in armor, afraid to let anyone see our true selves? How many of us are too scared to feel, to love, to be hurt? What would happen if we let those walls down, even just a little? What if we allowed ourselves to be vulnerable, to be real?
I thought I was too numb because I couldn’t feel anything, but now I understand that feeling is a part of being alive. It’s what makes us human. And I would rather feel everything—the joy, the pain, the love, the sorrow—than feel nothing at all. Because in the end, it’s our emotions that make life worth living. It’s our ability to feel that gives life its color, its depth, its meaning.
Crying that night didn’t make me weak; it made me stronger. It showed me that I wasn’t numb, just tired. Tired of pretending, tired of holding it all in. And in that vulnerability, I found strength. It’s okay to feel, to cry, to break down. It’s okay to admit that you’re not okay. Because in those moments of raw emotion, we find the truth about ourselves. We find the strength to heal.
