The Weight of Being Misunderstood

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I’ve been carrying something heavy for a long time.

It’s not just pain—it’s silence. A silence I’ve been forced into by people who should have known me best. Not strangers. Not acquaintances. My own family.

I want to be careful here. I’m not writing this to call anyone out or start drama. That’s not my style. I’m writing this because I know I’m not the only one who’s felt this ache—the ache of being so deeply misunderstood by the people who helped shape your beginning.

The truth is, they don’t talk to me anymore. And it’s not because of some huge moment or dramatic fallout. It’s quieter than that. It's the quiet that comes from being unseen. From being too different. From not fitting the box they had in mind.

They never really got me—not the loud laughter, the sensitive heart, the way I express myself in bright colours and creative chaos. They didn’t understand the way I feel things, how deeply I care, how hard I try. And when someone doesn't take the time to know the real you, it's so easy for them to rewrite your story.

And I’ve let it go on for so long because I’ve been told over and over again—stay humble, stay quiet, don’t rock the boat.

But silence isn’t peace.

Silence is pretending.

And I’m tired of pretending that this doesn’t hurt.


I’ve been judged for growing. For creating boundaries. For building something of my own that doesn’t include the people who made me feel small.

But even through the silence, I’ve kept creating. Every stitch, every project, every silly video, every blog post—it’s been a thread in my own healing. A way of rebuilding myself in colour and softness when life felt too harsh.

Crochet has been more than a craft. It’s been a lifeline. A space where I get to decide who I am and how I show up. It doesn’t ask me to tone myself down or explain why I’m the way I am. It just lets me be.

And honestly? I wish the people I came from could see the version of me that’s here now. The one who’s still soft. Still kind. Still holding love—but no longer holding back.

For Anyone Who’s Felt This Too

So if you’re reading this and you’ve felt the sting of being misunderstood by people who should’ve been your safest place—I see you. I know how deep that hurt goes. But I also know how strong you are for still showing up in your full, beautiful self despite it all.

You don’t have to shrink to keep others comfortable.

You don’t have to stay quiet to prove you’re kind.

You don’t have to earn love from people who were supposed to give it freely.

You’re allowed to exist—fully, brightly, unapologetically—even if the people who gave you your name never took the time to learn who you are.

And if you ever need a soft place to land, this little corner I’ve built? It’s for people like us. You're welcome here exactly as you are.



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