My Dear Unfurlers,
There’s something no one talks about enough: what it feels like when the people who are supposed to love you the most—don’t seem to understand you at all.
Today, I’m writing not because I want sympathy, but because I want to be heard. I want someone out there to know that if they feel suffocated, unheard, unseen, and constantly judged at home... they’re not alone.
My parents misunderstand me. They see my silence as attitude. My emotions as drama. My efforts as never enough. No matter how hard I try, I feel like I’m walking on a tightrope—balancing between being the child they expect and the person I really am.
They talk about “what’s best for me,” but sometimes, I wonder—do they even know me?
Their words, even when they think they’re helping, hurt. The comparisons, the sarcasm, the shouting—these don’t make me stronger. They make me tired. Tired of pretending everything’s okay. Tired of hoping for a proud smile that never comes.
I’m not writing this to make anyone look bad. I’m writing this because I need space to breathe, and maybe someone else does too. If you’re reading this and you feel trapped by expectations, crushed by pressure, or invisible at the dinner table—I see you. And I promise, your worth is not defined by anyone else’s approval.
This is my truth. It hurts, but I’m owning it. And maybe that’s the first step toward healing.
Unfolding dreams, one word at a time.
— Caspian Wren
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