Aisha’s alarm rang at 6:30 AM, as it always did. She let it buzz for a few extra seconds before sighing and sitting up. Another day. Another list of things to do.
She loved her job—really, she did. As a project manager, she thrived on the fast pace, the creative challenges, the rush of pulling things together at the last minute. Her salary was more than comfortable, and she had worked hard to build this life for herself. Yet, some mornings, like today, she woke up feeling... off. Not sad, not anxious, just heavy.
Brushing off the feeling, she moved through her routine. A quick workout, a shower, coffee. By the time she left for work, she had already checked her emails twice, mentally preparing for the meetings ahead.
Work was a whirlwind. Presentations, calls, deadlines. Between projects and managing her team, the hours slipped away. She was good at this, she reminded herself. This was what she had worked for. And yet, in the quieter moments—when she was waiting for a response from a client or walking back to her desk after a long meeting—she sometimes wondered what it would be like to just pause.
She never really paused.
Outside of work, her family relied on her. Not in a dramatic, burdensome way, but in the way all families do when they know there’s someone they can count on. If her parents needed something sorted, she did it. If her younger brother needed advice, she was there. If there was an event, she made time, even when exhausted. They never asked too much of her, but she took the extra trouble anyway—because they took trouble for her too. That was how love worked, right?
And she didn’t want to tell them when she was feeling low. What was the point? They had their own struggles. Her parents had worked hard all their lives to give her a smooth path. Her brother was finding his footing in his career. Why add to their worries?
So, she bottled it up. Pushed through. Told herself she was just tired.
By the time she got home, it was past nine. She ate dinner while scrolling mindlessly on her phone, letting the noise of social media drown out her thoughts. Some days, she felt fine. Other days, the weight of everything—work, expectations, the unspoken pressure of being the “strong one”—settled a little too deeply in her chest.
But she knew this feeling. It came and went. It was just life. Personal responsibilities, professional stress—they consumed a person in ways that weren’t always obvious. Some days, she was on top of everything. Other days, she just had to wait for herself to feel like herself again.
Tomorrow would be better. Or the day after. Until then, she would keep going. Like she always did.
................
She loved her job—really, she did. As a project manager, she thrived on the fast pace, the creative challenges, the rush of pulling things together at the last minute. Her salary was more than comfortable, and she had worked hard to build this life for herself. Yet, some mornings, like today, she woke up feeling... off. Not sad, not anxious, just heavy.
Brushing off the feeling, she moved through her routine. A quick workout, a shower, coffee. By the time she left for work, she had already checked her emails twice, mentally preparing for the meetings ahead.
Work was a whirlwind. Presentations, calls, deadlines. Between projects and managing her team, the hours slipped away. She was good at this, she reminded herself. This was what she had worked for. And yet, in the quieter moments—when she was waiting for a response from a client or walking back to her desk after a long meeting—she sometimes wondered what it would be like to just pause.
She never really paused.
Outside of work, her family relied on her. Not in a dramatic, burdensome way, but in the way all families do when they know there’s someone they can count on. If her parents needed something sorted, she did it. If her younger brother needed advice, she was there. If there was an event, she made time, even when exhausted. They never asked too much of her, but she took the extra trouble anyway—because they took trouble for her too. That was how love worked, right?
And she didn’t want to tell them when she was feeling low. What was the point? They had their own struggles. Her parents had worked hard all their lives to give her a smooth path. Her brother was finding his footing in his career. Why add to their worries?
So, she bottled it up. Pushed through. Told herself she was just tired.
By the time she got home, it was past nine. She ate dinner while scrolling mindlessly on her phone, letting the noise of social media drown out her thoughts. Some days, she felt fine. Other days, the weight of everything—work, expectations, the unspoken pressure of being the “strong one”—settled a little too deeply in her chest.
But she knew this feeling. It came and went. It was just life. Personal responsibilities, professional stress—they consumed a person in ways that weren’t always obvious. Some days, she was on top of everything. Other days, she just had to wait for herself to feel like herself again.
Tomorrow would be better. Or the day after. Until then, she would keep going. Like she always did.
................
