The Smile That Isn’t Real

There are days when I put on a smile like a mask. Not because I am happy. Not because everything is fine. But because the world expects it.People around me want to see a smile. They want to hear that everything is okay.And sometimes it’s easier to play this role than to explain what’s really going on inside me.But every time I smile without meaning it, I feel like a small part of me gets lost.The fake smile protects me from questions, from curious looks, from comments I don’t want to hear.But at the same time, it takes away my breath. It suffocates my truth.Behind that smile is often exhaustion.The exhaustion of having to look strong. The exhaustion of functioning while I’m falling apart inside.And sometimes I wonder: Why is it so hard to be honest? Why is saying “I’m not okay” so difficult and even harder for others to hear?The fake smile is like a silent scream.No one hears it, because it’s so well hidden.And yet, inside me, it echoes loudly. So loud that it keeps me awake. So loud that it drowns out every little joy.Maybe the greatest pain is knowing that with a single sentence I could be honest “I’m suffering” and yet feeling like no one could handle it.I wish that one day, a real smile will come more easily again.That I won’t have to put it on in order to be accepted.But that it will rise from within me not despite my scars, but with them.Until then, I will keep smiling, even if it isn’t always real.But deep inside, I hold on to the longing for the day I no longer have to pretend.The day I can truly be myself with all my pain, but also with all my hope.