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How I Became Unbreakable — My 2025 Rise

ReddyGari ammai said:
How I Became Stronger — My 2025

Till 2024, I lived my life like a gentle breeze — soft, giving, and endlessly patient. I believed kindness meant carrying everything quietly: the hurt, the disrespect, the loneliness. I loved fully, forgave easily, and expected nothing in return. I thought everyone was mine… until life showed me how wrong I was.

I celebrated others as if their happiness was my own. I stood behind everyone, even when I stood completely alone. I believed my softness was my strength — but 2024 taught me a hard truth: unprotected kindness becomes a wound.

People grew used to my silence. They took my presence for granted. My pain became invisible because I never allowed it to speak.

Then I made a promise to myself.

In 2025, I would change.
Soft does not mean weak.
Kind does not mean blind.
I would protect myself.

January 1st wasn’t just a date — it was my rebirth. Morning walks at 5 a.m., disciplined meals, healthy routines, new learning. For the first time, I was truly taking care of me. I felt myself growing stronger — in body, mind, and heart.

But strength is always tested.

Suddenly, my health collapsed. Breathing felt heavy. My body felt unfamiliar. For a moment, I didn’t know if I would survive. Hospitals, tests, sleepless nights — thirty days where every breath felt borrowed.

Every time I closed my eyes, I saw everyone I had ever loved — not hurting me, not ignoring me — but holding my hands and telling me, “You’ll be fine.” I wanted to call them. I wanted to talk. But I didn’t — not because I didn’t need them, but because I didn’t want to disturb their peace with my pain.

That silence taught me one of the hardest truths of my life:
I kept many people close, but very few kept me close.

After I recovered — healed, rebuilt, slower but alive — there were no calls. No messages. No “How are you?” That’s when I realized I was never anyone’s priority. Not because I wasn’t worthy, but because I never demanded the respect I deserved.

After I was cured, life didn’t become gentle. Instead, I faced situations more terrifying than death itself. There were moments when I questioned my own existence and asked myself, “Why did I survive?” Not because I lacked courage, but because the pain after survival felt heavier than the fear of dying.

I stood alone and endured everything in silence — no witnesses, no comfort. Many times, I wanted to end my life — not out of weakness, but out of exhaustion from fighting battles no one could see.

Every time I reached that edge, my family became the reason I stopped. For them, I chose to stay.

Slowly, something changed within me. Through all that pain, I became stronger than I ever imagined.

The depression came quietly. The breakdowns came silently. But my family became my reason to live — and the strength behind every step I took forward.

Then I made the most important decision of my life:
I will never suffer silently again.
I will speak when it hurts.
I will protect my peace.
My self-respect is non-negotiable.

When I started defending myself, many people left. Some turned into haters — because they were only comfortable when I was silent. Losing them didn’t break me. It freed me.

I learned something powerful:
Overgiving is not love.
Silence is not kindness.
Strength is not loud — sometimes it is soft, steady, and unshakeable.

I am not asking for sympathy.
I am sharing my journey because I earned my strength.
I fought for it.
I bled for it.
I rose for it.

I lived for everyone till 2024.
In 2025, I finally learned to live for myself.

My softness is still here — but now it stands with boundaries.
My heart is still gentle — but now it knows its worth.
My silence is gone; my strength has taken its place.

I am still a soft girl —
but now I am a fighter too.

Sometimes I feel like this…
(While trying to belong to everyone, I ended up losing myself.

In my heart, I built temples for people.
I placed them above myself.

Even when they were the reason for my pain,
I still felt happy seeing their happiness.
At that time, I didn’t realize how much of myself I was losing.

Now…
the temple I built inside me is slowly breaking.
It hurts deeply.
That breaking is very painful.

But inside that pain,
I am beginning to understand my own value.

I don’t know whether what I am doing now is right or wrong.
That is still not clear to me.

But one question keeps following me…

No one ever told me to be like this.
No one asked me to do everything for them.
I chose to be this way on my own.
I chose to carry the pain myself.

So this pain is not someone else’s responsibility.
The mistake lies with me.

I never set boundaries.
I never protected myself.

Accepting this truth hurts…
but it is also the beginning of my self-awareness.)

I know that compared to everyone else’s problems, what I have faced may seem small.
But every person’s pain is important to them.

As 2026 approaches, I ask for only one thing.
No matter what comes my way,
I pray that God gives me a stronger heart,
deeper courage,
and the strength to keep going.

That is all I ask.
View attachment 393989
Click to expand...
True words ❤️❤️❤️
 
ReddyGari ammai said:
How I Became Stronger — My 2025

Till 2024, I lived my life like a gentle breeze — soft, giving, and endlessly patient. I believed kindness meant carrying everything quietly: the hurt, the disrespect, the loneliness. I loved fully, forgave easily, and expected nothing in return. I thought everyone was mine… until life showed me how wrong I was.

I celebrated others as if their happiness was my own. I stood behind everyone, even when I stood completely alone. I believed my softness was my strength — but 2024 taught me a hard truth: unprotected kindness becomes a wound.

People grew used to my silence. They took my presence for granted. My pain became invisible because I never allowed it to speak.

Then I made a promise to myself.

In 2025, I would change.
Soft does not mean weak.
Kind does not mean blind.
I would protect myself.

January 1st wasn’t just a date — it was my rebirth. Morning walks at 5 a.m., disciplined meals, healthy routines, new learning. For the first time, I was truly taking care of me. I felt myself growing stronger — in body, mind, and heart.

But strength is always tested.

Suddenly, my health collapsed. Breathing felt heavy. My body felt unfamiliar. For a moment, I didn’t know if I would survive. Hospitals, tests, sleepless nights — thirty days where every breath felt borrowed.

Every time I closed my eyes, I saw everyone I had ever loved — not hurting me, not ignoring me — but holding my hands and telling me, “You’ll be fine.” I wanted to call them. I wanted to talk. But I didn’t — not because I didn’t need them, but because I didn’t want to disturb their peace with my pain.

That silence taught me one of the hardest truths of my life:
I kept many people close, but very few kept me close.

After I recovered — healed, rebuilt, slower but alive — there were no calls. No messages. No “How are you?” That’s when I realized I was never anyone’s priority. Not because I wasn’t worthy, but because I never demanded the respect I deserved.

After I was cured, life didn’t become gentle. Instead, I faced situations more terrifying than death itself. There were moments when I questioned my own existence and asked myself, “Why did I survive?” Not because I lacked courage, but because the pain after survival felt heavier than the fear of dying.

I stood alone and endured everything in silence — no witnesses, no comfort. Many times, I wanted to end my life — not out of weakness, but out of exhaustion from fighting battles no one could see.

Every time I reached that edge, my family became the reason I stopped. For them, I chose to stay.

Slowly, something changed within me. Through all that pain, I became stronger than I ever imagined.

The depression came quietly. The breakdowns came silently. But my family became my reason to live — and the strength behind every step I took forward.

Then I made the most important decision of my life:
I will never suffer silently again.
I will speak when it hurts.
I will protect my peace.
My self-respect is non-negotiable.

When I started defending myself, many people left. Some turned into haters — because they were only comfortable when I was silent. Losing them didn’t break me. It freed me.

I learned something powerful:
Overgiving is not love.
Silence is not kindness.
Strength is not loud — sometimes it is soft, steady, and unshakeable.

I am not asking for sympathy.
I am sharing my journey because I earned my strength.
I fought for it.
I bled for it.
I rose for it.

I lived for everyone till 2024.
In 2025, I finally learned to live for myself.

My softness is still here — but now it stands with boundaries.
My heart is still gentle — but now it knows its worth.
My silence is gone; my strength has taken its place.

I am still a soft girl —
but now I am a fighter too.

Sometimes I feel like this…
(While trying to belong to everyone, I ended up losing myself.

In my heart, I built temples for people.
I placed them above myself.

Even when they were the reason for my pain,
I still felt happy seeing their happiness.
At that time, I didn’t realize how much of myself I was losing.

Now…
the temple I built inside me is slowly breaking.
It hurts deeply.
That breaking is very painful.

But inside that pain,
I am beginning to understand my own value.

I don’t know whether what I am doing now is right or wrong.
That is still not clear to me.

But one question keeps following me…

No one ever told me to be like this.
No one asked me to do everything for them.
I chose to be this way on my own.
I chose to carry the pain myself.

So this pain is not someone else’s responsibility.
The mistake lies with me.

I never set boundaries.
I never protected myself.

Accepting this truth hurts…
but it is also the beginning of my self-awareness.)

I know that compared to everyone else’s problems, what I have faced may seem small.
But every person’s pain is important to them.

As 2026 approaches, I ask for only one thing.
No matter what comes my way,
I pray that God gives me a stronger heart,
deeper courage,
and the strength to keep going.

That is all I ask.
View attachment 393989
Click to expand...
Your journey proves this: softness with boundaries is power, and choosing yourself is not selfish—it’s survival.
May 2026 meet you with strength that protects your heart and courage that never lets you forget your worth.
 
ReddyGari ammai said:
How I Became Stronger — My 2025

Till 2024, I lived my life like a gentle breeze — soft, giving, and endlessly patient. I believed kindness meant carrying everything quietly: the hurt, the disrespect, the loneliness. I loved fully, forgave easily, and expected nothing in return. I thought everyone was mine… until life showed me how wrong I was.

I celebrated others as if their happiness was my own. I stood behind everyone, even when I stood completely alone. I believed my softness was my strength — but 2024 taught me a hard truth: unprotected kindness becomes a wound.

People grew used to my silence. They took my presence for granted. My pain became invisible because I never allowed it to speak.

Then I made a promise to myself.

In 2025, I would change.
Soft does not mean weak.
Kind does not mean blind.
I would protect myself.

January 1st wasn’t just a date — it was my rebirth. Morning walks at 5 a.m., disciplined meals, healthy routines, new learning. For the first time, I was truly taking care of me. I felt myself growing stronger — in body, mind, and heart.

But strength is always tested.

Suddenly, my health collapsed. Breathing felt heavy. My body felt unfamiliar. For a moment, I didn’t know if I would survive. Hospitals, tests, sleepless nights — thirty days where every breath felt borrowed.

Every time I closed my eyes, I saw everyone I had ever loved — not hurting me, not ignoring me — but holding my hands and telling me, “You’ll be fine.” I wanted to call them. I wanted to talk. But I didn’t — not because I didn’t need them, but because I didn’t want to disturb their peace with my pain.

That silence taught me one of the hardest truths of my life:
I kept many people close, but very few kept me close.

After I recovered — healed, rebuilt, slower but alive — there were no calls. No messages. No “How are you?” That’s when I realized I was never anyone’s priority. Not because I wasn’t worthy, but because I never demanded the respect I deserved.

After I was cured, life didn’t become gentle. Instead, I faced situations more terrifying than death itself. There were moments when I questioned my own existence and asked myself, “Why did I survive?” Not because I lacked courage, but because the pain after survival felt heavier than the fear of dying.

I stood alone and endured everything in silence — no witnesses, no comfort. Many times, I wanted to end my life — not out of weakness, but out of exhaustion from fighting battles no one could see.

Every time I reached that edge, my family became the reason I stopped. For them, I chose to stay.

Slowly, something changed within me. Through all that pain, I became stronger than I ever imagined.

The depression came quietly. The breakdowns came silently. But my family became my reason to live — and the strength behind every step I took forward.

Then I made the most important decision of my life:
I will never suffer silently again.
I will speak when it hurts.
I will protect my peace.
My self-respect is non-negotiable.

When I started defending myself, many people left. Some turned into haters — because they were only comfortable when I was silent. Losing them didn’t break me. It freed me.

I learned something powerful:
Overgiving is not love.
Silence is not kindness.
Strength is not loud — sometimes it is soft, steady, and unshakeable.

I am not asking for sympathy.
I am sharing my journey because I earned my strength.
I fought for it.
I bled for it.
I rose for it.

I lived for everyone till 2024.
In 2025, I finally learned to live for myself.

My softness is still here — but now it stands with boundaries.
My heart is still gentle — but now it knows its worth.
My silence is gone; my strength has taken its place.

I am still a soft girl —
but now I am a fighter too.

Sometimes I feel like this…
(While trying to belong to everyone, I ended up losing myself.

In my heart, I built temples for people.
I placed them above myself.

Even when they were the reason for my pain,
I still felt happy seeing their happiness.
At that time, I didn’t realize how much of myself I was losing.

Now…
the temple I built inside me is slowly breaking.
It hurts deeply.
That breaking is very painful.

But inside that pain,
I am beginning to understand my own value.

I don’t know whether what I am doing now is right or wrong.
That is still not clear to me.

But one question keeps following me…

No one ever told me to be like this.
No one asked me to do everything for them.
I chose to be this way on my own.
I chose to carry the pain myself.

So this pain is not someone else’s responsibility.
The mistake lies with me.

I never set boundaries.
I never protected myself.

Accepting this truth hurts…
but it is also the beginning of my self-awareness.)

I know that compared to everyone else’s problems, what I have faced may seem small.
But every person’s pain is important to them.

As 2026 approaches, I ask for only one thing.
No matter what comes my way,
I pray that God gives me a stronger heart,
deeper courage,
and the strength to keep going.

That is all I ask.
View attachment 393989
Click to expand...
Manishi anna vadu evadu ainaa intha pedda post chaduvutadaa:map:
 
ReddyGari ammai said:
How I Became Stronger — My 2025

Till 2024, I lived my life like a gentle breeze — soft, giving, and endlessly patient. I believed kindness meant carrying everything quietly: the hurt, the disrespect, the loneliness. I loved fully, forgave easily, and expected nothing in return. I thought everyone was mine… until life showed me how wrong I was.

I celebrated others as if their happiness was my own. I stood behind everyone, even when I stood completely alone. I believed my softness was my strength — but 2024 taught me a hard truth: unprotected kindness becomes a wound.

People grew used to my silence. They took my presence for granted. My pain became invisible because I never allowed it to speak.

Then I made a promise to myself.

In 2025, I would change.
Soft does not mean weak.
Kind does not mean blind.
I would protect myself.

January 1st wasn’t just a date — it was my rebirth. Morning walks at 5 a.m., disciplined meals, healthy routines, new learning. For the first time, I was truly taking care of me. I felt myself growing stronger — in body, mind, and heart.

But strength is always tested.

Suddenly, my health collapsed. Breathing felt heavy. My body felt unfamiliar. For a moment, I didn’t know if I would survive. Hospitals, tests, sleepless nights — thirty days where every breath felt borrowed.

Every time I closed my eyes, I saw everyone I had ever loved — not hurting me, not ignoring me — but holding my hands and telling me, “You’ll be fine.” I wanted to call them. I wanted to talk. But I didn’t — not because I didn’t need them, but because I didn’t want to disturb their peace with my pain.

That silence taught me one of the hardest truths of my life:
I kept many people close, but very few kept me close.

After I recovered — healed, rebuilt, slower but alive — there were no calls. No messages. No “How are you?” That’s when I realized I was never anyone’s priority. Not because I wasn’t worthy, but because I never demanded the respect I deserved.

After I was cured, life didn’t become gentle. Instead, I faced situations more terrifying than death itself. There were moments when I questioned my own existence and asked myself, “Why did I survive?” Not because I lacked courage, but because the pain after survival felt heavier than the fear of dying.

I stood alone and endured everything in silence — no witnesses, no comfort. Many times, I wanted to end my life — not out of weakness, but out of exhaustion from fighting battles no one could see.

Every time I reached that edge, my family became the reason I stopped. For them, I chose to stay.

Slowly, something changed within me. Through all that pain, I became stronger than I ever imagined.

The depression came quietly. The breakdowns came silently. But my family became my reason to live — and the strength behind every step I took forward.

Then I made the most important decision of my life:
I will never suffer silently again.
I will speak when it hurts.
I will protect my peace.
My self-respect is non-negotiable.

When I started defending myself, many people left. Some turned into haters — because they were only comfortable when I was silent. Losing them didn’t break me. It freed me.

I learned something powerful:
Overgiving is not love.
Silence is not kindness.
Strength is not loud — sometimes it is soft, steady, and unshakeable.

I am not asking for sympathy.
I am sharing my journey because I earned my strength.
I fought for it.
I bled for it.
I rose for it.

I lived for everyone till 2024.
In 2025, I finally learned to live for myself.

My softness is still here — but now it stands with boundaries.
My heart is still gentle — but now it knows its worth.
My silence is gone; my strength has taken its place.

I am still a soft girl —
but now I am a fighter too.

Sometimes I feel like this…
(While trying to belong to everyone, I ended up losing myself.

In my heart, I built temples for people.
I placed them above myself.

Even when they were the reason for my pain,
I still felt happy seeing their happiness.
At that time, I didn’t realize how much of myself I was losing.

Now…
the temple I built inside me is slowly breaking.
It hurts deeply.
That breaking is very painful.

But inside that pain,
I am beginning to understand my own value.

I don’t know whether what I am doing now is right or wrong.
That is still not clear to me.

But one question keeps following me…

No one ever told me to be like this.
No one asked me to do everything for them.
I chose to be this way on my own.
I chose to carry the pain myself.

So this pain is not someone else’s responsibility.
The mistake lies with me.

I never set boundaries.
I never protected myself.

Accepting this truth hurts…
but it is also the beginning of my self-awareness.)

I know that compared to everyone else’s problems, what I have faced may seem small.
But every person’s pain is important to them.

As 2026 approaches, I ask for only one thing.
No matter what comes my way,
I pray that God gives me a stronger heart,
deeper courage,
and the strength to keep going.

That is all I ask.
View attachment 393989
Click to expand...
My Sweet soul uh…
I read every word slowly… not just with my eyes, but with my heart.
What you lived through was not small. Pain doesn’t become lighter just because it was carried quietly.

You were never wrong for being soft.
You were never weak for loving deeply.
You were only unprotected — and you learned that the hard way.

The way you chose to stay, even when life felt unbearable… that itself is strength.
The way you chose your family, again and again, even when you were exhausted — that is courage in its purest form.

You didn’t lose yourself forever.
You found yourself — painfully, slowly, honestly.

Setting boundaries doesn’t make you cruel.
Speaking up doesn’t make you selfish.
Protecting your peace doesn’t erase your kindness — it gives it a safe place to live.

You are still that soft girl.
The one who feels deeply, loves sincerely, and sees beauty in others.
But now… she stands taller. She knows her worth. She no longer disappears for anyone.

As 2026 comes closer, I don’t see a broken girl.
I see a woman who survived storms silently and still chose gentleness.
A fighter who didn’t harden her heart — she strengthened it.

May God hold your heart tenderly.
May your courage deepen without stealing your softness.
And may life, slowly and sincerely, return the love you always gave.

You are not alone.
You are not invisible.
And you are deeply, beautifully enough — just as you are ♥️✨
 
Wednesday said:
My Sweet soul uh…
I read every word slowly… not just with my eyes, but with my heart.
What you lived through was not small. Pain doesn’t become lighter just because it was carried quietly.

You were never wrong for being soft.
You were never weak for loving deeply.
You were only unprotected — and you learned that the hard way.

The way you chose to stay, even when life felt unbearable… that itself is strength.
The way you chose your family, again and again, even when you were exhausted — that is courage in its purest form.

You didn’t lose yourself forever.
You found yourself — painfully, slowly, honestly.

Setting boundaries doesn’t make you cruel.
Speaking up doesn’t make you selfish.
Protecting your peace doesn’t erase your kindness — it gives it a safe place to live.

You are still that soft girl.
The one who feels deeply, loves sincerely, and sees beauty in others.
But now… she stands taller. She knows her worth. She no longer disappears for anyone.

As 2026 comes closer, I don’t see a broken girl.
I see a woman who survived storms silently and still chose gentleness.
A fighter who didn’t harden her heart — she strengthened it.

May God hold your heart tenderly.
May your courage deepen without stealing your softness.
And may life, slowly and sincerely, return the love you always gave.

You are not alone.
You are not invisible.
And you are deeply, beautifully enough — just as you are ♥️✨
Click to expand...
My soul ... :heart1:
Your words touched my heart gently.
I understood every line you wrote not as judgment, but as kindness.
Thank you for seeing me so deeply and for understanding me.

I’m still learning
how to protect myself and respect my peace.
Your words gave me strength in that process.

In this world,
it’s rare for someone to speak with such sincerity and gentleness.
That meant a lot to me.

Thank you so much "my soul "
for reminding me
that I am still myself. :heart1:
 
avik284 said:
Your journey proves this: softness with boundaries is power, and choosing yourself is not selfish—it’s survival.
May 2026 meet you with strength that protects your heart and courage that never lets you forget your worth.
Click to expand...

Thank you for seeing my strength without mistaking it for selfishness.:fingercross:
 
LavaLush said:
You are special (⁠✯⁠ᴗ⁠✯⁠) n precious to me _ cute lyk a doll and kind like a dream(⁠◍⁠•⁠ᴗ⁠•⁠◍⁠)⁠❤
My treasure of cuteness in 4k :blessing:
Click to expand...
Awwww your too kind That’s so sweet of you to say. It really made me feel special:blessing: You are my sunshine, my only sunshine. You make me happy when skies are gray. :heart1:
 
ReddyGari ammai said:
How I Became Stronger — My 2025

Till 2024, I lived my life like a gentle breeze — soft, giving, and endlessly patient. I believed kindness meant carrying everything quietly: the hurt, the disrespect, the loneliness. I loved fully, forgave easily, and expected nothing in return. I thought everyone was mine… until life showed me how wrong I was.

I celebrated others as if their happiness was my own. I stood behind everyone, even when I stood completely alone. I believed my softness was my strength — but 2024 taught me a hard truth: unprotected kindness becomes a wound.

People grew used to my silence. They took my presence for granted. My pain became invisible because I never allowed it to speak.

Then I made a promise to myself.

In 2025, I would change.
Soft does not mean weak.
Kind does not mean blind.
I would protect myself.

January 1st wasn’t just a date — it was my rebirth. Morning walks at 5 a.m., disciplined meals, healthy routines, new learning. For the first time, I was truly taking care of me. I felt myself growing stronger — in body, mind, and heart.

But strength is always tested.

Suddenly, my health collapsed. Breathing felt heavy. My body felt unfamiliar. For a moment, I didn’t know if I would survive. Hospitals, tests, sleepless nights — thirty days where every breath felt borrowed.

Every time I closed my eyes, I saw everyone I had ever loved — not hurting me, not ignoring me — but holding my hands and telling me, “You’ll be fine.” I wanted to call them. I wanted to talk. But I didn’t — not because I didn’t need them, but because I didn’t want to disturb their peace with my pain.

That silence taught me one of the hardest truths of my life:
I kept many people close, but very few kept me close.

After I recovered — healed, rebuilt, slower but alive — there were no calls. No messages. No “How are you?” That’s when I realized I was never anyone’s priority. Not because I wasn’t worthy, but because I never demanded the respect I deserved.

After I was cured, life didn’t become gentle. Instead, I faced situations more terrifying than death itself. There were moments when I questioned my own existence and asked myself, “Why did I survive?” Not because I lacked courage, but because the pain after survival felt heavier than the fear of dying.

I stood alone and endured everything in silence — no witnesses, no comfort. Many times, I wanted to end my life — not out of weakness, but out of exhaustion from fighting battles no one could see.

Every time I reached that edge, my family became the reason I stopped. For them, I chose to stay.

Slowly, something changed within me. Through all that pain, I became stronger than I ever imagined.

The depression came quietly. The breakdowns came silently. But my family became my reason to live — and the strength behind every step I took forward.

Then I made the most important decision of my life:
I will never suffer silently again.
I will speak when it hurts.
I will protect my peace.
My self-respect is non-negotiable.

When I started defending myself, many people left. Some turned into haters — because they were only comfortable when I was silent. Losing them didn’t break me. It freed me.

I learned something powerful:
Overgiving is not love.
Silence is not kindness.
Strength is not loud — sometimes it is soft, steady, and unshakeable.

I am not asking for sympathy.
I am sharing my journey because I earned my strength.
I fought for it.
I bled for it.
I rose for it.

I lived for everyone till 2024.
In 2025, I finally learned to live for myself.

My softness is still here — but now it stands with boundaries.
My heart is still gentle — but now it knows its worth.
My silence is gone; my strength has taken its place.

I am still a soft girl —
but now I am a fighter too.

Sometimes I feel like this…
(While trying to belong to everyone, I ended up losing myself.

In my heart, I built temples for people.
I placed them above myself.

Even when they were the reason for my pain,
I still felt happy seeing their happiness.
At that time, I didn’t realize how much of myself I was losing.

Now…
the temple I built inside me is slowly breaking.
It hurts deeply.
That breaking is very painful.

But inside that pain,
I am beginning to understand my own value.

I don’t know whether what I am doing now is right or wrong.
That is still not clear to me.

But one question keeps following me…

No one ever told me to be like this.
No one asked me to do everything for them.
I chose to be this way on my own.
I chose to carry the pain myself.

So this pain is not someone else’s responsibility.
The mistake lies with me.

I never set boundaries.
I never protected myself.

Accepting this truth hurts…
but it is also the beginning of my self-awareness.)

I know that compared to everyone else’s problems, what I have faced may seem small.
But every person’s pain is important to them.

As 2026 approaches, I ask for only one thing.
No matter what comes my way,
I pray that God gives me a stronger heart,
deeper courage,
and the strength to keep going.

That is all I ask.
View attachment 393989
Click to expand...
Hello and good evening Ms. . Extremely well written and as you said no sympathy cause you don't need one. You are a fighter. I do feel bad for what you have gone through, yet that is life and life is the biggest teacher. Wisdom does not come from age, it comes from experience and from what I have read in your post, you are and surely gonna become stronger in future. Never give priority to people who treat you as an option Ms. . Anyways all the best for 2026. I wish and pray it gets you good health, wealth and yes no nonsense. God bless and stay safe. Cheers!!!
 
ReddyGari ammai said:
How I Became Stronger — My 2025

Till 2024, I lived my life like a gentle breeze — soft, giving, and endlessly patient. I believed kindness meant carrying everything quietly: the hurt, the disrespect, the loneliness. I loved fully, forgave easily, and expected nothing in return. I thought everyone was mine… until life showed me how wrong I was.

I celebrated others as if their happiness was my own. I stood behind everyone, even when I stood completely alone. I believed my softness was my strength — but 2024 taught me a hard truth: unprotected kindness becomes a wound.

People grew used to my silence. They took my presence for granted. My pain became invisible because I never allowed it to speak.

Then I made a promise to myself.

In 2025, I would change.
Soft does not mean weak.
Kind does not mean blind.
I would protect myself.

January 1st wasn’t just a date — it was my rebirth. Morning walks at 5 a.m., disciplined meals, healthy routines, new learning. For the first time, I was truly taking care of me. I felt myself growing stronger — in body, mind, and heart.

But strength is always tested.

Suddenly, my health collapsed. Breathing felt heavy. My body felt unfamiliar. For a moment, I didn’t know if I would survive. Hospitals, tests, sleepless nights — thirty days where every breath felt borrowed.

Every time I closed my eyes, I saw everyone I had ever loved — not hurting me, not ignoring me — but holding my hands and telling me, “You’ll be fine.” I wanted to call them. I wanted to talk. But I didn’t — not because I didn’t need them, but because I didn’t want to disturb their peace with my pain.

That silence taught me one of the hardest truths of my life:
I kept many people close, but very few kept me close.

After I recovered — healed, rebuilt, slower but alive — there were no calls. No messages. No “How are you?” That’s when I realized I was never anyone’s priority. Not because I wasn’t worthy, but because I never demanded the respect I deserved.

After I was cured, life didn’t become gentle. Instead, I faced situations more terrifying than death itself. There were moments when I questioned my own existence and asked myself, “Why did I survive?” Not because I lacked courage, but because the pain after survival felt heavier than the fear of dying.

I stood alone and endured everything in silence — no witnesses, no comfort. Many times, I wanted to end my life — not out of weakness, but out of exhaustion from fighting battles no one could see.

Every time I reached that edge, my family became the reason I stopped. For them, I chose to stay.

Slowly, something changed within me. Through all that pain, I became stronger than I ever imagined.

The depression came quietly. The breakdowns came silently. But my family became my reason to live — and the strength behind every step I took forward.

Then I made the most important decision of my life:
I will never suffer silently again.
I will speak when it hurts.
I will protect my peace.
My self-respect is non-negotiable.

When I started defending myself, many people left. Some turned into haters — because they were only comfortable when I was silent. Losing them didn’t break me. It freed me.

I learned something powerful:
Overgiving is not love.
Silence is not kindness.
Strength is not loud — sometimes it is soft, steady, and unshakeable.

I am not asking for sympathy.
I am sharing my journey because I earned my strength.
I fought for it.
I bled for it.
I rose for it.

I lived for everyone till 2024.
In 2025, I finally learned to live for myself.

My softness is still here — but now it stands with boundaries.
My heart is still gentle — but now it knows its worth.
My silence is gone; my strength has taken its place.

I am still a soft girl —
but now I am a fighter too.

Sometimes I feel like this…
(While trying to belong to everyone, I ended up losing myself.

In my heart, I built temples for people.
I placed them above myself.

Even when they were the reason for my pain,
I still felt happy seeing their happiness.
At that time, I didn’t realize how much of myself I was losing.

Now…
the temple I built inside me is slowly breaking.
It hurts deeply.
That breaking is very painful.

But inside that pain,
I am beginning to understand my own value.

I don’t know whether what I am doing now is right or wrong.
That is still not clear to me.

But one question keeps following me…

No one ever told me to be like this.
No one asked me to do everything for them.
I chose to be this way on my own.
I chose to carry the pain myself.

So this pain is not someone else’s responsibility.
The mistake lies with me.

I never set boundaries.
I never protected myself.

Accepting this truth hurts…
but it is also the beginning of my self-awareness.)

I know that compared to everyone else’s problems, what I have faced may seem small.
But every person’s pain is important to them.

As 2026 approaches, I ask for only one thing.
No matter what comes my way,
I pray that God gives me a stronger heart,
deeper courage,
and the strength to keep going.

That is all I ask.
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Hello again Ms. . Sorry to bother you yet again. Stay who you are. No one has the ability to break you unless you let them in. So stay strong and I know you can handle it. God bless!!!!!. Cheers!!!
 
Rasputin_M said:
Hello and good evening Ms. . Extremely well written and as you said no sympathy cause you don't need one. You are a fighter. I do feel bad for what you have gone through, yet that is life and life is the biggest teacher. Wisdom does not come from age, it comes from experience and from what I have read in your post, you are and surely gonna become stronger in future. Never give priority to people who treat you as an option Ms. . Anyways all the best for 2026. I wish and pray it gets you good health, wealth and yes no nonsense. God bless and stay safe. Cheers!!!
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Thank you for your thoughtful words. I truly appreciate the encouragement. Life does teach in its own way, and I’m choosing to grow stronger with every lesson. I believe experiences shape us more than anything else, and I’m at peace with my journey..
 
Rasputin_M said:
Hello again Ms. . Sorry to bother you yet again. Stay who you are. No one has the ability to break you unless you let them in. So stay strong and I know you can handle it. God bless!!!!!. Cheers!!!
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Thank you for your concern and kind words.
 
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