A friend of mine would always say no to photos—
no to capturing moments, no to recording memories.
And I often wondered why.
Maybe she was shy, conscious of the camera,
maybe she didn’t like pictures, or felt insecure.
But I was wrong.
I’ve lately realised that for her,
moments captured in the heart
are far more precious than filtered clips and forced smiles.
She may not—or cannot—share those moments with the world,
nor explain them through words or proofs.
Yet she can feel them,
and relive them on a gentle loop,
safely secured in her tiny heart.
Dec 25, 2025
Dec 25, 2025 at 7:54 AM UTC
A friend of mine would always say no to photos—
no to capturing moments, no to recording memories.
And I often wondered why.
Maybe she was shy, conscious of the camera,
maybe she didn’t like pictures, or felt insecure.
But I was wrong.
I’ve lately realised that for her,
moments captured in the heart
are far more precious than filtered clips and forced smiles.
She may not—or cannot—share those moments with the world,
nor explain them through words or proofs.
Yet she can feel them,
and relive them on a gentle loop,
safely secured in her tiny heart.
She chose to live her memories, not display them.