Sometimes, the world feels so sharp.
Harsh words, sharp elbows, judgment—edges everywhere.
I catch myself armoring up, bracing for impact.

It feels like survival, but it’s exhausting.

For years, I thought I had two choices:
Keep my heart open and risk being hurt, or close it off and stay safe.

But a mentor once told me:
“It’s not about being open or closed. Here’s a reframe. It’s about being open and willing—willing to be bruised occasionally.”

Ugh. I felt the truth of that, but I hadn’t yet found the courage to live it.

To meet force with softness instead of resistance.
To trust that staying open is stronger than the illusion of safety behind walls.

Here’s what I’ve come to realize:
The sharpness I feel in the world often reflects the sharpness I carry within—the self-judgment, the inner critic, the part of me that learned to be hard on myself just to survive.

But when I meet that part of me with compassion, when I love the version of me who thought hardening was the only way to stay safe, something shifts.

The sharp edges soften.
First inside me, then around me.

Softness, I’ve learned, is not fragility. It’s strength.

Living with an open heart in a hard world is one of the bravest things I’ve ever done.
But it’s worth it.

Because when I trust myself enough to stay soft, I can meet the world with love.

And love changes everything.