My walls are high

By: Santtana Looganaden

There’s a reason why my walls are built so high, and there’s a reason it will take you longer than expected to bring them down. There’s a reason why I’m guarded.

I’m guarded because I’ve been hurt before. We all have. My weakness is that I carry the pain with me as a constant reminder that it could happen again. And while this is such a cautious way to walk through life, while instead I could be wildly sprinting, the wild sprint has made me fall and trip before, and the scrapes and burns were painful. So painful that it takes a while to try and run that fast again. So I walk, and I walk carefully noticing my surroundings because I worry if I were to ever fall that hard again, I might not be able to get back up. 

I’m guarded because I’m scared of what you’ll think, but not scared enough to admit it. I fear your disapproval like a little girl fears the monster under her bed, and right now I will just keep quiet to avoid any disturbance.

I’m guarded because no one has ever protected me as well as I protect myself. My own armor has been stronger than yours, or his, or hers, and it will continue to be until someone shows me otherwise.

I’m guarded because I’ve mistakenly invested my trust in those who took it for granted, and because of their disregard, I no longer hand that trust out so easily.

Life will bring hurt and pain, and people will disappoint you, but no one has the ability to break down your walls except for you. I’m guarded because I’ve chosen to be that way.

The two most inadequate words in the English - I'm Sorry!

BY: Santtana Looganaden

“An apology is a lovely perfume; it can transform the clumsiest moment into a gracious gift.”Margaret Lee Runbeck

Don’t apologise for telling someone how you feel; whether it’s something good or bad. 

Don’t apologise for your honesty or your feelings.

Don’t apologise for protecting your heart whether by being too guarded or walking away too soon. Sometimes you’re the only one who knows how to heal yourself.

Don’t apologise for following your heart either. 

Don’t apologise for making a decision that will make you happy. Even if it might disappoint some people, if you truly believe it’s right for you, you should not feel guilty about it.

Don’t apologise for your vulnerability. For crying when you’re upset, for needing space when you’re confused and don’t apologise for the way you choose to handle your pain.Don’t apologise for being a bad friend to someone who wasn’t there for you when you needed them. You learn who your true friends are when times get rough.

Don’t apologise for taking a chance on someone who’s wrong for you. Don’t listen to the ‘I told you so’ and ‘we warned you.’ 
Don’t apologise for asking for closure. It’s not a crime. It’s not too needy. It’s not too crazy. It’s your right. 

Sometimes apology is the shell we wrap around us to escape the real world, but why bother. This side of you shows the real you. So don't be ashamed of being you. 

A poison that kills

Anxiety
BY: Santtana Looganaden

When you have anxiety, you think that everyone is going to leave you.

Your mind over-analyse everything. It’s one wrong Facebook message. One conversation where you wonder if you said too much. It’s a text unanswered that sends your mind wandering. And a call that goes right to voicemail. It’s a second text to clarify, just hoping they will answer. Even though you know you should have waited.

Anxiety is self-doubt. 

Anxiety is overthinking.

It’s the waiting for people to leave. It’s ruining something before it even begins. It’s goodbye without the word that becomes an expectation. It’s the nights that keep you up tossing and turning. It’s not hearing from someone for a while and thinking they are mad, even though realistically they have no reason to be. 

Practically, it's a poison that kills you slowly. 

This Is For The Girl In The Mirror

By: Santtana Looganaden This isn’t a standard love letter. It’s not to the boy who broke your heart or the man who tore it apart. It’s not to your best friend who likes to send you gifts at three o’clock in the morning. It’s not to your parents who believe that the world is only made up of straight lines and that there is no room for curves. No. This letter is to the girl in the mirror who day by day asks “what is my life all about?” This letter is to the girl who seeks meaning in her existence. This is to the girl who questions why she can no longer cry. This is to the girl who stood so strong but has so many cracks on the inside that she’s crumbling. This is to the girl who finds herself too thin, too fat, too ugly, too much and too little at the same time who wonders “this is what my life is all about?” This love letter is to the girl who craves attention, thinking that alone is love. This is to the girl who surrounds herself with pretty things while inside she feels like a monster. This is to the girl who feels she is more toxic wasteland than teenage dream. This is to the girl who is a poet alone in a sea of words. This letter is to remind you – babe, you’re strong. You’re beautiful. You’re powerful. You’re brave. You’re a wonderful masterpiece that isn’t even finished yet. You have a purpose in this world to show how to love and it begins within yourself. This letter is to the girl in the mirror. The one who needs to be reminded: mirrors are only as good as the person who sees the reflection. That it’s not the reflection that needs fixing; it’s the perspective.