EVERY TIME I SMILE, PAIN TAPS ME ON THE SHOULDER

They don’t tell you that rejection doesn’t just break your heart it rewires it.

For some of us, it starts early. Maybe it was the parent who left. The one who stayed but never looked at you like you mattered. Or the boy in school who called you beautiful only when no one else was listening, then denied ever knowing your worth out loud.

You grow up learning to hide your heart like it’s dangerous. You learn to shrink, to speak softly, to not ask for too much. You begin to believe love is earned by suffering, staying quiet, or becoming useful.

You watch other women be adored while you wait patiently on the sidelines, hoping someone will see the softness in you, the loyalty, the depth… but they don’t.

Or they do and still leave anyway.

You start to question what’s wrong with you.

And then one day, you try to heal.

You try to love again. You try to laugh again. You try to trust again.

But the moment you start smiling…

Something taps you on the shoulder.

And it’s not joy.

It’s pain.

A whisper from your past saying:

“Don’t get too comfortable. You know how this ends.”

I’ve lost count of how many times I’ve started over.

How many times I’ve told myself, “This time will be different.”

I’ve laid next to people who never asked how I felt. I’ve stayed in rooms where I couldn’t breathe because I thought being chosen, even halfway, was better than being alone.

I’ve begged God to take away the ache, to quiet the voice in my head that says, “You’re hard to love.”

But healing isn’t a straight line. And forgiveness doesn’t come easy when the one you have to forgive is yourself for allowing so many people to treat you like you were disposable.

There are women walking around today who haven’t truly smiled in years.

Not because they’re bitter but because every time they try, life reminds them of how quickly happiness can disappear.

They’ve built walls with hands that were meant to hold. They’ve mistaken silence for peace, and loneliness for safety.

They’ve learned to protect themselves even from love because the risk of heartbreak feels greater than the hope of connection.

They’ve convinced themselves they don’t need anyone, when deep down, they’re still praying for someone to prove them wrong.

And when someone kind comes along someone who sees them and chooses them they don’t know how to receive it.

They flinch.

They pull away.

Not because they don’t want love, but because love has looked like pain for too long.

I’m one of those women.

I’ve smiled with shaking hands.

I’ve kissed while waiting for the goodbye.

I’ve made people laugh while I was silently breaking inside.

And sometimes, when something good finally finds me… I get scared. I question it. I expect it to leave because for too long, love has been followed by loss. Joy has been followed by betrayal.

But here’s what I’m learning, even now, piece by piece:

That pain doesn’t get to sit at the head of my table anymore.

That fear doesn’t get to decide whether I am worthy of joy.

That I am not the broken girl I used to be I am the woman who survived her. So to the woman reading this maybe from your bed, or between tears, or silently on your lunch break if you’ve ever felt like loving again was too dangerous...

I want you to know something:

You are not alone.

You are not broken.

You are not too damaged for love.

You are someone who loved deeply and lost painfully. That doesn’t make you weak it makes you real.

And even if life keeps tapping your shoulder with pain…

One day, it will tap you with peace instead.