Wednesday, March 13, 2024

Strength Behind the Tears

In a world where strong women are admired for their resilience and ability to tackle challenges, it's easy to forget that they too have emotions that run deep. 

So, I recently had a chance to play cricket tournament where having one woman in a team was a must and the first over was handed to the women.

First ball, first over, I swung my bat with Dhoni-like confidence, but the ball dint fly like a rocket for boundaries. So, I started running, but gravity had other plans, and I found myself kissing the ground. The opponents, displaying true sportsmanship, chose not to throw the ball at the stumps, sparing me from run out.

My knee was in pain, yet I played the remaining five balls, determined not to give up. As I stepped out of the ground, I noticed my torn pant. "Well, torn pants are trendsetters," I thought, lifting it to inspect my knee. To my shock, I discovered a sizable wound accompanied by a splash of blood.

Upon noticing my injury, the team captain promptly called for first aid, and a person with a box emerged. Before I could scream out my pain, the captain and those around me said, 'What a brave, strong woman!'

The notion of being a strong woman echoed in my mind and I concealed the pain behind a mask, casually stating, 'Oh, just a scratch, no big deal.' Yet, in reality, it hurt like hell. 

Questioning whether this act qualifies as strength, I pondered. The pain was real, but I hid it well. Am I truly a strong woman? Who's to say?

Enduring a week of pain and limping, I made sure no one noticed my limping and pain. As strong women, we become masters of hiding our pain. But there are moments when that strength shatters us to the core and sometimes, the burden becomes too heavy to carry alone.

Today marked a different chapter – a trip to the hospital all by myself. Absolutely, being strong is admirable, but in the hospital, where vulnerability is unavoidable, having someone by your side makes all the difference. 

Multiple injections and a small surgery left me in pain. Feeling a bit dizzy while driving back home after anesthesia, I question whether to blame myself for projecting strength to those around me or if I was a fool for not expressing my vulnerability.

As the anesthesia wore off, the pain from the surgery resurfaced. However, what hurt even more was the loneliness within the hospital walls. But what truly stung was the realization that people often perceive strong women as unstoppable, neglecting the love and care we silently crave.

Being a strong woman doesn't mean we don't need love and care; even the strongest souls yearn for compassion.