🌻 The Weight They Carry

A Simply Flava Reflection

There are moments in life when you quietly see the weight that others carry — not on their backs, but in their eyes, their gestures, and even in the small choices they make to feel safe.

Some people find comfort in little things — gadgets, headphones, or the latest bit of technology. It’s not always about the item itself, but what it represents: a way to control the noise, to drown out the chaos, to create even a small bubble of peace.

I recently spoke with someone who carries a hidden camera pen, just in case something terrible happens while out in the world. Not because they want attention — but because fear has become part of their daily reality.

And then there are others who wear exhaustion like a second skin. They move slower, their bodies ache in ways that don’t quite match their age. It’s not illness alone — it’s stress. It’s the pressure of trying to keep up in a world that seems to demand constant motion and perfection while offering little rest.

It breaks my heart to see how heavy life has become for so many young people.

I remember being a young mom at twenty, trying to figure out how to raise a child, work, and keep the lights on. It was hard — but it felt different. My worries were tangible: food, rent, diapers, safety within my home. These young souls today carry fears that reach far beyond their personal lives — fears shaped by the world around them. They worry about being seen, being targeted, being safe in their own skin.

Being brown-skinned.

Being gay.

Being different in a world that still struggles to understand difference.

That’s not the kind of anxiety you can soothe with a cup of tea or a good night’s sleep. It’s the kind that seeps deep into your being — a survival kind of anxiety that makes you hyper-aware, always scanning, always cautious.

He told me something that’s stayed with me:

“Sometimes it’s a downfall to be smart — to be aware, to research, to really see what’s happening. People who aren’t aware get to live more freely.”

I understood exactly what he meant. Awareness brings responsibility, and sometimes heartache. Once your eyes are open, you can’t close them again. Yet I also believe that awareness, when paired with compassion, can guide us to create gentler spaces for others.

Some people are carrying storms we can’t see — waiting on news from home, praying for safety far away, doing their best to stay steady while the wind howls elsewhere.

This morning, someone showed me pictures from home — a place facing the power of nature at its worst. There was pride in their voice, but worry in their eyes. It reminded me that sometimes, the storm is both outside and within.

I look at this younger generation, and I wish I could lift some of that weight off their shoulders. I wish the world could soften around them — make room for them to breathe, laugh, and feel safe just existing.

What I can do is offer compassion. I can listen. I can care. I can choose not to add to their burden.

The world feels loud right now. But maybe if enough of us whisper peace — through kindness, patience, and presence — it can start to quiet, even if only for a moment.

✨Be gentle with yourself and find your safe circle of people. ✨