In the book I’m currently reading, there’s a story about a woman whose marriage began beautifully—full of promise, joy, and everything you’d expect from a fairytale beginning. But somewhere along the line, the man she married slowly transformed into someone she barely recognized.
He became temperamental, unkind in small but persistent ways, careless with her heart, and insensitive to her needs……physically, emotionally and even sexually. Still, because marriage is supposed to be a lifelong vow, she stayed, she forgave, she swallowed disappointments. She extended grace in places she should have received it. She managed his flaws, his terrible habits, his bad temper, his small wickedness here and there, and somehow still held the marriage together with her bare hands.
She narrated that to the outside world, this man appeared perfect. Charming. Respectable. Admirable. The kind of man people praised without really knowing anything about who he was behind closed doors. But she knew the truth, she lived with it. And she endured it because she believed that love and grace were enough to sustain a marriage that was slowly draining life out of her.
Then the story took an even darker turn.
One day, an incident happened…..an act so shocking and painful that it shattered whatever hope she had left. It was an incident of abuse, the kind that strips away denial and forces clarity. In that moment however, she realized without question that the man she married was not the same man she was living with. He wasn’t just ‘flawed’, he was dangerous in ways she had never imagined. What made the blow even harder to bear was that he showed no remorse. No empathy. Not even the slightest acknowledgement that what he did was wrong. It was as if her pain didn’t register as human to him.
That was the moment she decided she could not continue. She made up her mind that leaving was the only option, the only path to survival. But in the messy, emotional, terrifying process of trying to escape a life she had invested everything in…..she made a bad decision. A moment of weakness, born from fear, confusion, exhaustion, and years of carrying burdens no human should have to carry alone.
And like clockwork, that single human mistake became the one thing he clung to, the one thing he used to tear her apart, to destroy her reputation, to flip the narrative and paint himself as the victim. He dragged her publicly, loudly, viciously……forgetting entirely the countless ways she had forgiven, shielded, protected, and loved him.
And that’s the part that made something inside me burn.
Because this story mirrors what happens in real life.
It is the pattern. The cycle. The familiar heartbreak of so many women……women who forgive easily, who extend grace naturally, who love deeply, who give and give until there’s barely anything left for themselves.
Women who are quick to understand, but rarely understood.
Women whose first instinct is compassion, even when they are the ones hurting.
Women who protect the same people who wound them.
Women who sacrifice themselves in the name of “love,” “peace,” “family,” or “duty.”
And somehow, society still dares to call that weakness.
I’m not speaking from theory. I see it every day. I hear the stories. I’ve lived pieces of it too. I know women who are carrying entire households on their backs. Women enduring disrespect in silence. Women freezing their own dreams to keep someone else warm. Women giving chances, grace, understanding, and forgiveness that men rarely, rarely return.
And the worst part?
When a woman finally chooses herself, when she draws a boundary, when she runs for her life, when she decides “enough”…..society crucifies her. A man can choose himself and be praised for “taking control of his life,” but a woman choosing herself is treated like betrayal.
It’s exhausting. And it’s unfair. But it’s also revealing.
Because when I look closely, I see something clearly……
The reason women forgive easily is not because they are foolish, it’s because they are powerful. The reason they extend grace is not because they are weak, it’s because their hearts are built to love expansively. The reason they sacrifice so much is not because they are meant to suffer, it’s because empathy comes naturally to them in a way the world constantly exploits.
Women are wired to nurture, to care, to understand, to uplift, to protect, to stay soft even after being bruised. And yes, sometimes people misuse that softness. Sometimes it backfires. Sometimes it breaks them.
But it is still a strength. A divine, irreplaceable strength.
This world survives because of women like the one in that story…..women who carry what others drop, women who love through chaos, women who hold families together, women who build community through compassion, women who heal what men break, women who fight silently and still show up every day.
And maybe that’s the real heartbreak—not that women forgive too much, but that the world has learned to take that forgiveness for granted. Women bend so much that people forget bending is a choice, not a duty. They carry so much that people forget carrying is a strength, not an obligation.
Despite everything, I still believe this, a woman’s softness is her power, not her downfall. Her empathy is not a weakness, it is evidence of a heart that refuses to turn cold. And if the world ever learns to value that properly, maybe women won’t have to bleed just to prove their goodness.
Until then, may we learn to choose ourselves with the same devotion we give to others…..because choosing yourself is not betrayal; it is survival.
PS: This is for every woman who has ever felt her softness was taken for granted, her love overlooked, her empathy stretched, her grace misused.
If that’s you, I want you to remember that your strength is real, your light is needed, and the world is better because you’re here.
Happy new month guys!
With Love,
Beks💜
“She is clothed with strength and dignity; she can laugh at the days to come. She speaks with wisdom, and faithful instruction is on her tongue.”
Proverbs 31:25-26
Beks Unfiltered 
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