Am I overthinking?

How Kindness Gets Misused

They push you
to see how much you’ll take.
Not because they care,
but because they know you won’t walk away.

They can be harsh.
Say things they don’t mean
or maybe they do.
They react,
lose control,
say whatever comes to their mouth.

Then one day they’re calm again,
as if nothing happened.
And I’m supposed to be fine too.
Like I didn’t replay it in my head.
Like it didn’t sit in my chest for days.

There’s no space for me to heal.
No time to process.
I just have to show up normal.

But pretending is harder
than shouting.
Harder than crying.
Because when you keep pretending,
your soul doesn’t scream anymore,
it slowly goes numb.

My kindness turns into something they expect.
Something they joke about.
Something they use.

If I speak up, it’s attitude.
If I step back, I’m dramatic.
If I ask for privacy, I’m accused of hiding.

Everything needs to be shared now.
Every feeling explained.
Every silence questioned.

When I protect myself,
I become the problem.

Sometimes I wonder,
am I a free park?
Open for everyone.
No closing time.
No right to lock the gate.

But wanting peace
doesn’t mean I lack love.
Wanting boundaries
doesn’t mean I lack respect.

I have dignity.
Even if they forget it.

And if choosing myself
makes me look difficult,
then maybe I was never meant
to be easy.