Chapter 1: The Weight of Emotional Distance

I've recently observed a shift within myself, leading to a greater sense of emotional detachment, and it's been a heavy load on my heart.

Being someone like me is no small feat. There are times when I feel so overwhelmed that I can’t extend empathy to those I hold dear. It’s peculiar; I’m evolving into a person I never envisioned being—someone I once despised.

People often describe me as reliable and resilient, yet I wish they would remain by my side when I’m feeling low, even if I insist I don’t require support. Sure, I have my family, but I long for a special friend or someone I can truly count on. I previously believed that needing someone was not a flaw, but as time passed, I began to feel that such dependence made me appear weak. I’m reluctant to let my defenses down around anyone.

Deep down, I still yearn for emotional support; however, I’m terrified of getting too close to others. I fear that if I allow myself to be vulnerable, I will be hurt, making it increasingly challenging to form new connections.

I once thought I had numerous people to rely on, but reality proved otherwise—individuals come and go, and it feels as though no one truly cares. It’s a disheartening realization.

Why am I transforming in this way? Am I inherently flawed, or simply a complex person to love? I repeatedly ask myself, “What’s wrong with me?” I used to be so different.

Whenever I sense someone drawing too near emotionally, my instinct is to distract myself. While this tactic is effective in alleviating stress, it falls short when others seek my emotional support. People often perceive me as cold and unfeeling.

In truth, I feel as though a piece of me is missing.

I wonder how many of you are experiencing something similar, perhaps due to past traumas or events that have altered your nature.

I can only articulate my feelings through writing, which is why I'm sharing them publicly for the first time. I seek to understand whether I’m alone in this experience or if others can relate.

I stumbled upon a poignant poem that resonated deeply with me:

“In the dance of life, she once twirled,

A vibrant spirit, around the world.

But as days turned into years,

Her laughter faded, replaced by tears.

Betrayed by love, deceived by trust,

Her once warm heart began to rust.

Promises were broken, lies were told,

And her vibrant spirit started to fold.

Each hurtful word, each silent night,

Drove her further from the light.

She built a wall, tall and wide,

To protect her heart, she locked inside.

People saw her as cold and distant,

But they didn’t know the pain persistent.

Beneath the frosty exterior she wore,

Lay a heart that had been hurt to the core.

It wasn’t that she didn’t feel,

But rather, it became too real.

To shield herself from further pain,

She learned to dance in the cold rain.

Her laughter was now a silent scream,

Lost in a world, like a dream.

But deep inside, a flicker remains,

A hope that someday, she’ll break the chains.

So if you see a girl so cold,

Remember the stories never told.

Behind the ice, a fire may hide,

A wounded heart, seeking a guide.

For in the dance of life’s cruel art,

Sometimes, a girl becomes cold heart.”

I hope that people recognize that those who have endured trauma, whether from loss, abuse, or ongoing emotional struggles, may adopt a frigid or distant demeanor as a means of self-preservation.