"STILL STRUGGLING." - by Abisolina

A Personal Insight It’s a phrase that escapes my lips more often than I care to admit. It's never loud, rarely dramatic—just a quiet truth that clings to me like a second skin. Sometimes, it’s whispered in my thoughts when I wake up with a racing heart and no obvious reason. Other times, it's a silent scream behind my smile, echoing beneath the surface when people say, “You’re doing great,” and I just nod. The struggle isn't always visible. That’s the strange thing about it. On the outside, I might appear composed, even capable—checking off tasks, showing up, holding conversations. But internally, there’s a constant war between the person I present and the one I feel I am. I’m still struggling—to be seen, to be understood, to understand myself. Some days feel like progress. I rise, get dressed, drink my water, and chase the light in little ways. Other days are heavier. I wrestle with the same doubts I thought I had buried. I second-guess my worth, my choices, my voice. I ask questions that don’t have immediate answers: Am I enough? Will this pain ever ease? Why do I still feel like I’m behind everyone else? There’s a loneliness in the struggle that’s hard to explain. Not because I’m alone in my experiences—but because it’s hard to articulate just how deep the roots go. The disappointments I carry. The expectations I couldn’t meet. The hurt I’ve tucked away to keep moving. I try to be gentle with myself, but even that is a struggle—because self-compassion doesn’t always come easily to someone who has had to be strong for so long. I look around and sometimes feel like everyone else has found a rhythm to life that still eludes me. I see smiles and success and milestones, and I wonder if they’re still struggling too—or if I’m the only one stuck in this quiet maze of becoming. I remind myself not to compare, but when you’re still struggling, comparison sneaks in through the cracks of exhaustion. But here’s what I’m starting to learn: struggling doesn’t mean failing. Struggling means I’m still trying. It means I haven’t given up. It means I’m facing life with an open, if weary, heart. It means I still believe, somewhere deep inside, that things can get better—even if I don’t see how just yet. And maybe that’s enough for today. So yes, I’m still struggling. But I’m still here. Still learning. Still loving. Still hoping. Still reaching, even if it’s with trembling hands. And if that’s all I can manage for now, then maybe—just maybe—it’s more than enough.

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