The Weight of Expectation

She couldn’t see that she was collapsing under the weight of it all. The unspoken expectations. If she was honest, she picked them up herself as she walked along the path. She would see something that needed carrying and pick it up. Or she’d see some work that needed doing and get it done.

Soon, others expected it of her. But it was becoming too heavy. Her arms held more than one was ever meant to lift. Yet, she carried them with such grace that she, and the others around her, thought they were hers to hold. One day, she saw a flower in front of her and was drawn to it. She remembered long ago when she would sit in the field, admiring the beauty of the flowers surrounding her. She never felt rushed, and her heart was full in those moments.

She thought now of how nice it would be to pick up the flower in front of her, to hold it, to smell it, to linger in its beauty for a while. But her arms were too full. There was no room for those things that made her heart flutter – no space for her own desires and longings. They were deep down inside her now, crushed underneath the weight of the unspoken expectations. She couldn’t let others down, couldn’t let herself down. These were foolish thoughts – the idea that she could pick a flower for no reason at all, just because it was her heart’s desire.

But this flower, this beautiful flower, she couldn’t leave it. It was as though those crushed longings had begun to fight back, as though they had a mind of their own. Everything was swirling, the unspoken expectations, the longing, the desires, creating a cloud around her head. She could see the battle of her heart, mind and soul swirling around her but could not stop it. All she could do was wait for the storm to pass.” he couldn’t see that she was collapsing under the weight of it all. The unspoken expectations. If she was honest, she picked them up herself as she walked along the path. She would see something that needed carrying and pick it up. Or she’d see some work that needed doing and get it done.

Soon, others expected it of her. But it was becoming too heavy. Her arms held more than one was ever meant to lift. Yet, she carried them with such grace that she, and the others around her, thought they were hers to hold. One day, she saw a flower in front of her and was drawn to it. She remembered long ago when she would sit in the field, admiring the beauty of the flowers surrounding her. She never felt rushed, and her heart was full in those moments.

She thought now of how nice it would be to pick up the flower in front of her, to hold it, to smell it, to linger in its beauty for a while. But her arms were too full. There was no room for those things that made her heart flutter – no space for her own desires and longings. They were deep down inside her now, crushed underneath the weight of the unspoken expectations. She couldn’t let others down, couldn’t let herself down. These were foolish thoughts – the idea that she could pick a flower for no reason at all, just because it was her heart’s desire.

But this flower, this beautiful flower, she couldn’t leave it. It was as though those crushed longings had begun to fight back, as though they had a mind of their own. Everything was swirling, the unspoken expectations, the longing, the desires, creating a cloud around her head. She could see the battle of her heart, mind and soul swirling around her but could not stop it. All she could do was wait for the storm to pass.

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