When the Strong Break

To some, we might seem like a simple stone—something solid, unchanging. To others, perhaps, we appear as an unbreakable fortress, a wall that nothing can shake. But in reality, inside, we often break. Some of us allow tears to flow freely, spending days confronting our pain, while others feel their spirit crying, even though no tear is visible.

Tonight, Malda has brought us together to talk about our mental health and those invisible cracks we often hide. These fractures can cause us to retreat within ourselves, becoming like cold, unfeeling stones. Perhaps this is our defense mechanism, our way of coping with sadness and fear.
And tonight, I want to speak about the small part of Ardiana that I carry within me—the little girl who held onto her pain, who didn’t allow herself to cry for months on end. Not because she wasn’t hurting, but because she couldn’t find the strength or formula to help the one she loved most.
The older Ardiana locked away that little girl on a cold December day, telling herself that tears wouldn’t help either of them or what she cherished most. She knew that the only thing that could sustain hope was to keep her pain hidden. And so, she decided to bury her tears, transforming them into silence and resilience. Day by day, week by week, month by month, she didn’t shed a tear for the next 182 days.
But on a warm May day, she faced an ordinary challenge—one she had overcome many times before. But that day, for reasons buried within, her shell cracked. And when the tears finally erupted, they poured freely for three hours in a police station—not over an insurmountable situation, but for something she knew she could handle.
Because sometimes, even the strongest among us break. But she remained human, and in that, she found that delicate strength that makes us who we are. In that moment, Ardiana finally saw the anxiety and pain she had lived with. Others may not have known the hell, the sleepless nights, and all she had endured, because this was her story, entirely her own.
But it is far better to speak, to cry—even in a police station, before a psychologist, a friend, or family. Pain becomes an unbearable horror when it’s faced alone.
What’s important is to accept that we’re not alone. Each of us carries small fractures that we try to hide. By leaning on each other and talking about them, we can begin to lift the weight we carry, understanding that our greatest strength lies in sharing these experiencesRPReplay_Final1730239474