We all have our own ways of dealing with life’s… situations. (Let’s call them situations because problems feel too heavy this early, beautiful morning as I sit at my desk to blog this)
Honestly, the best way to deal with issues would be not to have them at all — but since we’re human and not yet living in paradise, that’s off the table.
Some people face challenges head-on. They plan, respond, adjust, and sometimes mix all their strategies together like a pot of jollof — hoping one of them will cook up a solution. And yes, they say action brings results, but sometimes… action just brings exhaustion. You tweak, you try, and life stares back like, “Is that all you’ve got?”
I’ve been there — adjusting, keeping pace, offering smiles through the tough moments, trying to show everything was okay even when I felt worn out. I tucked my struggles away so quietly that I almost started believing I really was fine. It wasn’t because I wanted to pretend; I truly believed all efforts we made to salvage what was left would work — or that maybe they would have a change of heart. Honestly, I didn’t know any other way to handle it except to stay strong for myself. People have told me, “You keep it together so well,” but it was never deliberate. I was just doing what I knew — holding on, staying hopeful, trying to make it through. Giving up or breaking down was never my thing. My mom would always say, “Stay positive,” and somewhere along the line, that became my default mode of survival.
But here’s what I learned (the long, un-funny way): silence might look peaceful, but it’s a slow leak — one that empties you before you realize you’re running on empty. There are consequences to not seeking help — and to not seeking the right kind of help at the right time. Pain doesn’t disappear because we hide it behind productivity, smiles, or even prayer without process.
So, if you’re reading this and thinking, “I can handle it. I don’t want to expose anyone or disappoint the family,” — pause. That mindset can quietly sabotage your healing. Because the truth is, you can’t heal what you keep protecting.
Sometimes, the yam that will burn doesn’t scream, it just sits quietly in the fire, pretending it’s fine — until you smell the smoke.
