#favjoker
Let Life Be
Let life be filled with peace even in difficult times.
Let life be guided by wisdom, kindness, and understanding.
Let life be a journey of purpose, where every step leads to growth and every challenge builds strength.
Let life be surrounded by love that never fades and hope that never dies.
Let life be brighter than yesterday and better than today.
Let life be full of open doors, endless opportunities, and victories over every struggle.
Let life be a source of joy to family, friends, and everyone we meet.
Let life be protected from harm, disappointment, and sorrow.
Let life be blessed with good health, happiness, and success.
Let life be a testimony of grace, faith, and perseverance.
Let life be meaningful, fruitful, and inspiring until the very end.
Amen.
©® Coker Favour A.
May 8
May 8, 2026 at 8:30 PM UTC
I Smiled Through It All—But I Was Falling Apart Inside
There’s a version of me everyone knew.
The one who laughed easily.
The one who showed up.
The one who always seemed… fine.
That version of me was convincing.
Maybe too convincing.
Because no one ever asked if I was okay.
---
It’s strange how easy it is to hide pain.
Not by lying…
…but by functioning.
By doing what’s expected.
By replying messages on time.
By showing up to places with a steady voice and a calm face.
You learn how to wear “I’m fine” like it’s part of your identity.
And after a while, people stop questioning it.
---
But what they don’t see…
is the silence after everything.
---
They don’t see the moments when the noise fades and it’s just you and your thoughts.
They don’t see how heavy your chest feels when you finally sit still.
They don’t hear the conversations you have with yourself late at night—
the ones filled with doubt, regret, and questions that never get answered.
---
I became an expert at holding things in.
Not because I wanted to…
but because I didn’t know where to put them.
---
You try to speak once… maybe twice.
And when people don’t really listen—
or they respond with surface-level words—
you start to feel like opening up is pointless.
So you stop.
---
And that’s how it begins.
---
You start dealing with everything alone.
The pressure.
The confusion.
The expectations.
You carry it quietly.
So quietly that even the people closest to you don’t notice how much you’re holding.
---
And the scary part?
You get used to it.
---
You get used to smiling when you don’t feel like it.
Used to saying “I’m good” without thinking.
Used to pushing through days that feel heavier than they should.
---
But pain doesn’t disappear just because it’s hidden.
It waits.
It builds.
It stretches itself into every corner of your life.
---
Until one day…
you feel it all at once.
---
Not in a dramatic breakdown.
Not in a way people would immediately notice.
But in a quiet moment where everything suddenly feels like too much.
---
You sit there…
and for the first time in a long time, you don’t have the energy to pretend anymore.
---
That moment is terrifying.
Because it forces you to face something you’ve been avoiding:
You’re not okay.
---
And for a while, I didn’t know what to do with that truth.
---
I had spent so much time being “strong” that I didn’t even know how to be honest with myself.
I didn’t know how to sit with my own emotions without trying to fix or ignore them.
---
But slowly… I started learning.
---
Not how to be perfect.
Not how to have everything figured out.
But how to be real.
---
I started admitting when I was tired.
Admitting when things hurt.
Admitting when I didn’t have the answers.
---
And something unexpected happened.
---
The weight didn’t disappear overnight…
but it became easier to carry.
---
Because I wasn’t fighting myself anymore.
---
I wasn’t pretending to be okay just to make others comfortable.
I wasn’t hiding behind a version of myself that didn’t exist.
---
I was just… being.
---
And that’s something we don’t talk about enough.
---
We praise strength.
We admire people who “hold it together.”
But we rarely talk about the cost of always being the strong one.
---
The truth is—
Strength isn’t always loud.
Sometimes, it looks like admitting you’re struggling.
Sometimes, it looks like slowing down when everything in you wants to keep running.
Sometimes, it looks like choosing honesty over image.
---
So if you’ve been smiling through everything…
If you’ve been carrying more than people realize…
If you’ve mastered the art of looking okay when you’re not—
---
You’re not alone.
---
And more importantly…
you don’t have to keep pretending.
---
You don’t have to have everything figured out.
You don’t have to be strong all the time.
You don’t have to carry everything by yourself.
---
It’s okay to pause.
It’s okay to feel.
It’s okay to be human.
---
Because at the end of the day…
being real will always be more powerful than being perfect.
---
And maybe…
just maybe…
the moment you stop pretending—
is the moment you finally start healing.
©® Coker Favour A.
May 8
May 8, 2026 at 2:33 AM UTC
Silence is Death
Silence is a room with no windows,
where thoughts knock and never get answered.
It is a tongue folded inward,
bleeding words it refused to release.
Silence is not peace—
it is the heavy kind of quiet
that sits on the chest like stone,
teaching the heart to forget its own rhythm.
It is the scream that never became sound,
the truth that died on the edge of a lip,
the apology never spoken,
the love never confessed,
the pain never named.
Silence is death in slow motion—
not the ending that arrives once,
but the one that keeps arriving daily,
each time you choose not to speak.
It grows in the corners of relationships,
feeds on unasked questions,
and becomes a graveyard of “I should have said…”
where voices go to rot in memory.
And yet, people call it strength,
as if drowning in yourself is noble,
as if swallowing fire
does not eventually burn the inside hollow.
But life was never meant to be muted.
Even the wind argues with the trees.
Even oceans refuse stillness.
So speak—
even if your voice shakes,
even if your truth costs comfort,
even if the world does not clap for it.
Because silence may look like safety,
but too often,
silence is simply death
wearing a calm face.
©® Coker Favour A.
May 11
May 11, 2026 at 3:21 PM UTC