Letting go of... holding it together

As long as I can remember, I have always been one to hold it together. Hardly any tantrums as a child, no turbulent teens to speak of, I was always the “good girl”. (This is of course till Snappy the Dragon Lady made her entry a few years ago. Remember Snappy?)

Yes, I’ve walked away from many a fight, politely exited an argument and have maintained my quiet when caustic comments came my way. I always imagined this was me taking the higher road. Perhaps it was.
But if so, why am I bitter about unkind words and actions that I quietly withstood. What would be the difference between them and I - was the ideal I maintained. Why then do I not feel any peace or pride when I look back at such instances?

And in difficult situations, I lifted my chin and held it together. There was no reason to make a big fuss about things. I could deal with it. I could deal with anything. In the course of my illness, countless people have told me that they never suspected that I was sick. Probably because I refused to allow myself to fall apart. For after all, that was what I had trained myself to do.

This post sounds bitter and maybe it is. But I do want to question our need to hold it together so much and if it is truly worth it. Is it truly a noble or brave act, if it causes pain on the inside, even when the shell outside remains shinny, chipper and cheerful?

I wonder if all this makes for some really bad advice. It probably does. So if in a difficult situation you are able to hold it together, please do so. I’m sure the world will be better for it.

But if holding it together is wearing you down, seems exhausting, and is not serving any purpose, then simply be yourself. For in my opinion, this whole business is quite overrated. I for one don’t want to do it anymore and the mere thought of not having to do so anymore is liberating.