I'm tired of expectations in which you have to be comfortable. To be the one who doesn't whine, doesn't scare with her sadness, doesn't ask for too much. But what if I WANT to be myself? With my grievances, failures, rollbacks and days when even making tea is a feat.

I don't need a hero who will solve everything. I just want a person next to me who won't be afraid of my silence. My "I don't know what's wrong with me." My prayer, in which I sometimes get confused in the words. Who won't say "oh, what's wrong, don't be sad" - but will simply take my hand and TELL God with me that we are having a hard time. Even if he himself doesn’t know what’s right. Even if everything inside him is crumpled, but he still chooses to be there, not to run away. 🙏

I want something simple. Real. When there is no “play cheerfully”, “be positive”, “don’t be so sensitive”. I’m not a toy, I’m not a profile in an app, I’m alive. With a faith that is not always stable. With a heart that hurts unscheduled. With eyes that have seen too much to play a fairy tale again.

I don’t need drama. I don’t need loud vows. A silent look and one “I’m here” are enough for me. I need the person next to me to also know what it’s like to pray when it’s hard. Not on Sundays, but just in life. When you’re shaking, when you’re losing, when you’re afraid that you can’t take it anymore. And so that you’re not ashamed of being weak.

I’m tired of being strong. Really. Tired of dragging myself by the hair out of another abyss. I want to feel that I can rely on you. That you won’t be abandoned if you don’t shine. That someone isn’t afraid to stay by your side when you’re completely out of shape. That someone also believes that strength isn’t in always keeping a straight face, but in not letting go of your hand, even when it’s dark.

I don’t know if I’ll meet such a person. Maybe not. Maybe I’ll continue to pray alone. Maybe no one will understand what it’s like to cry in the kitchen and ask God for someone who can just understand.

But I know for sure — I’m not pretending anymore. Not to myself, not to others. If I feel bad, I talk about it. If I’m lonely — I don’t play at independence. And if I meet someone who knows how to pray — not for show, but for real — I’ll recognize them right away. We’ll recognize each other. And this silence will have more meaning than a hundred beautiful phrases.

And do you know how to pray when you’re in pain? Or do you just hide everything deeper? 💭

Masha