When I was younger, I refused to cry.
I wanted to be solid, fearless, and strong.
But as life continued, I realized that keeping it in only made it worse.
It made me emotionless, stolid, a hollowed out version of what I used to be.
Energetic, cautious, happy.
I never want to go back to who I was then, nor who I was before.
But I'm still not proud of who I am now.
I know that we all self-doubt, and that I may never be the perfect image that I believe I should be, but I suppose that gives us something to work towards.
As we go through life, facing fear, challenge, hurt, we adapt to it in different ways.
I suppose it doesn't matter how we adapt, only that we do.
Pushing forward is all that matters.
When all else fails, we've just got to keep going, and ignore the vines that try to drag us down.