Beyond our Defaults.

Sometimes I wonder if people have a mental remote control with pre programmed buttons for every situation life offers. You share something heartfelt? Click. “Sorry to hear that.” You hit a milestone? Click. “Congrats!” You post a photo? Click. “Looking great!” Gawd!!!! It’s like there’s a whole operating system of polite, but empty auto replies running quietly in the background of all our lives… and I am so VERY over it.

I am not sharing my thoughts because I’m fishing for sympathy, hoping for a medal, or waiting for an emoji parade to dance through my comments section. I’m sharing because… well, that’s what humans are wired to do. We think. We feel. We notice. And if we’re lucky, we find the words to pull those inner contemplations into the open, where they can breathe and where others find light though their exposure.

Somewhere along the way, though, society decided that open expression is a weakness. That if someone says they’ve had a rough day, they must be on the brink of some spectacular collapse. That is SO backwards. Self expression is not the collapse… the opposite actually… it’s the lifeline. It’s the release valve that keeps us from quietly fracturing.

The ones who never let anything out, the people who walk around with smiles that don’t reach their eyes and stories they have swallowed whole, they are the ones we should worry about. Because unspoken truths don’t just disappear. They sit in the dark, growing heavier, until one day they demand to be heard, and by then, it’s often far messier.

When I share something, it’s not always about me. Sure, today’s words were rooted in my own life, but so often I’m simply observing. Connecting dots. Weaving moments together into something others might recognise in themselves. It’s not a cryptic cry for help, it’s an invitation to look a little deeper.

What I write almost always carries a message beneath it, like an undercurrent. It’s there if you’re willing to step into the water. I hope you do. Not because I need to be agreed with or applauded, but because that’s where the connection lives. And connection, real connection, is the oxygen we’re all quietly gasping for.

The next time you see someone putting themselves out there, pause before you press your mental “best wishes” button. Consider that what you’re witnessing might not be weakness, desperation, or a cry for help… it might be courage in its purest, most human form.

Expression is only half the magic. The other half is how we hold it when it reaches us.