The Shattered Wings of a Woman Who Finally Let Go
She used to think her worth was in how much she could carry.
How little she could need.
How deeply she could love someone.
How loyal she could be to others becoming.
How much work she’d do to save others,
forgetting how to save herself.
She wore strength like a second skin.
Smiled through her exhaustion.
Softened when she wanted to scream.
Held others’ pain while burying her own.
Because she thought that’s what good women do.
She believed she could carry the weight of the world, because that’s what women do.
She didn’t know her wings were made of glass.
She didn’t even know she had wings.
They cracked slowly over years, under the weight of unmet needs,
unspoken boundaries,
and the ache of being unseen while constantly showing up.
No one noticed the fractures.
She was too good at being fine.
But one day, the breaking couldn’t be hidden.
Something inside her said no more.
And the wings, the ones that looked so graceful to the world, shattered.
And instead of patching them back together,
instead of pretending she was okay,
she let them fall.
She let it all fall.
The old identities.
The overgiving.
The pleasing.
The proving.
The pretending.
She didn’t know who she’d be without them,
but she was finally willing to find out.
Because letting go wasn’t weakness.
It was a kind of sacred revolution.
A declaration: I will not betray myself to be held by anyone else.
And in the space where her glass wings used to be, something new began to grow.
Not performative strength, but embodied truth.
Not perfect composure, but messy aliveness.
Not glass, but grounded, holy, whole.
She used to wear her strength like armor,
her fragility hidden behind competence.
But glass wings weren’t made to carry a lifetime of silence.
When they finally shattered,
her real voice rose from the shards.
With love,🤍
Aniela
www.MindfulTherapist.us
#empoweredwomen
Photo:Pinterest
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