I am sick and tired of being strong. I’m the one who can handle the burden, so you keep passing it to me. You marvel at my composure when you should be building me a space where I can be weak. Stop asking me if I need to be held when you can see my arms shaking and knees buckling, my eyes holding an ocean, and my jaw set like stone. Step up the way you’ve seen me do a million times before, without being asked to or acknowledging the sacrifice.