Still Standing. Still Silent. Still Here.

Some of us didn’t heal.
We escaped.

We learned how to hide our shutdown behind smiles.
We built routines to survive emptiness.
We mastered strength because no one else was going to carry our weight.

These images aren’t for decoration.
They’re reminders —
Of who you were before they crushed your voice.
Of what’s still buried under the silence.
Of the version of you that never died — just went underground.

Every canvas in this post was built from that version.
The quiet one.
The angry one.
The one that doesn’t cry anymore, but still remembers everything.

You don’t need another coach.
You don’t need more self-help.

You need a mirror that knows what it feels like to carry grief that no one else even noticed.

This is what that looks like.

Live with fire. Build from ashes. Come back louder.