You have believed in monsters. You were taught they were born that way—born cruel, born callous, born to harm. But no one enters this world an asshole. That title is earned, piece by painful piece, carved by what they’ve been through and what they’ve been denied. Cruelty is not a personality—it’s a survival tactic. If someone grew up learning the world cannot be trusted, then trust becomes dangerous. And so they adapt. Aggression becomes armor. Narcissism becomes a life raft. This is not forgiveness. This is clarity.
Sitting with your emotions is not an act of indulgence. It is an act of survival. The world teaches people to either suppress or obsess over their feelings, to label them as problems in need of immediate solutions. Sadness is met with distraction, anxiety with positive affirmations, discomfort with a flurry of self-help strategies. But there is a difference between managing emotions and processing them. One is about control. The other is about trust.
Hurt people hurt people, but healing breaks the cycle. Emotional triggers reveal unresolved pain, offering a path to self-awareness and growth. By tending to these wounds, we transform how we respond to others, choosing peace over reactivity and creating space for connection, understanding, and inner resilience.
We were never meant to forget the trees. Biophilia, our innate bond with nature, whispers through the noise of modern life, urging us to reconnect. In this forgetting, we’ve lost well-being and harmony. Reclaiming this connection is both our healing and our responsibility. Will we answer?
Is truth always worth pursuing, even when it shatters meaning or hope? This article explores the tension between truth and comfort, weighing its power to liberate or harm, and asks: what kind of world do we want to build?
The river flows, carrying the weight of every stone it has touched. Each memory, sharp or smooth, shapes its path, carving identity into the current. Yet as the river meets the ocean, those stones dissolve, their weight lifted, their edges softened. The ocean does not grieve the loss of a single drop; it expands, vast and unburdened, teaching us that release is not forgetting but freedom. Life is a delicate balance of holding on to what shapes us and letting go of what no longer serves us. What will you carry forward, and what will you release into the infinite?
To belong is a quiet longing within us, but what does it mean to belong to a society that thrives on flawed foundations? To conform to its norms is to inherit its contradictions. You walk its streets, speak its language, and share its customs, but at what cost to your ethics?
This is the tension between normalcy and moral integrity: the invisible thread pulling you toward acceptance while leaving your values frayed. Conformity is not neutral. It is a choice with consequences. And within this choice lies the cost of complicity.
Explore Burkina Faso's journey toward self-reliance under President Ibrahim Traoré, a leader redefining national pride, economic independence, and cultural identity through bold policies grounded in resilience and sovereignty.
Vulnerability invites individuals to embrace their authentic selves, fostering deeper connections and personal growth. By acknowledging emotions, expressing needs, and owning mistakes, we cultivate resilience and trust in relationships, ultimately strengthening ourselves and enriching our lives.
