Sunrise

I’m tired of feeling like I have to act fine. People ask how I’m doing, and I smile or give the quick answer because I know what happens if I tell the truth. They look at me with pity I don’t want, and I start crying before I can stop it. It’s easier to pretend I’m okay than to fall apart in front of someone who was just trying to be kind.

But pretending is its own kind of exhaustion.

My foot has been affecting my mood for weeks. The pain, the limits, the slow pace of healing. It all sits heavy, and some days it feels like my mental health is tied directly to how loud Metal Mollie decides to be.

Yesterday was one of those days where everything felt harder, and I didn’t have the energy to fake being alright.

This morning, I saw the sunrise. Just a quiet moment. Soft light coming over the horizon. It didn’t erase anything, but it reminded me that today is new. A fresh start. A chance to choose how I want to move through the day, even if my foot still hurts and even if my emotions are close to the surface.

I can’t control the pain. I can’t control how slow healing feels. But I can choose my attitude, even if I have to choose it again and again.

The sunrise reminded me that I’m allowed to reset. I’m allowed to try again. I’m allowed to find something good, even when I’m tired of pretending I’m fine.

Today is a new day. And I’m choosing to be positive, even if it takes effort. Even if I have to keep choosing it. Even if my foot has other plans.