There comes a time when you’re asked to carry more than usual—when your strength is not an option but a necessity. You’re the anchor, the support beam, the space-holder. And in the quiet of that responsibility, your own voice feels muffled. You’re asked to say less, allow more, and hold steady while someone you love fights a battle that isn’t yours to fix.

But where do you go with the rising tide inside you?

When your own emotions have no safe landing, when your celebrations are whispered and your struggles swallowed, when you’re waiting and then waiting again… it’s easy to feel invisible. Unacknowledged. Alone.

You may feel like a stranger in your own environment—holding back tears while offering smiles, suppressing your ache to be present for theirs. It can feel like every part of you is being asked to expand, stretch, and bend without breaking… and still be okay.

But what if okay isn’t the goal?

What if, instead, it’s about honoring the weight you’re carrying?

Because there will be times when you’re holding more than others. In family, in work, in faith, in love. Life isn’t always balanced. But within the imbalance, there’s an invitation—a calling—to learn how to ride the wave.

Waves crash. They rise and fall. They come fast, or they move slow. Sometimes, they catch you off guard. Other times, you see them coming and brace. But one thing is certain: making decisions while you’re inside the wave is never where clarity lives.

Clarity comes after—in the stillness, in the center, in the in-between.

The high and the low are not your measuring sticks. They are motion. They are movement. They are meant to be surfed, not fought. And certainly not judged.

So, what can you do when you’re in the thick of it?

You take care of you in the most radical ways possible.

You ground.

You journal.

You walk.

You cry.

You move your body.

You call a friend.

You take five minutes of silence in the middle of chaos and breathe like it’s your only job.

You whisper to yourself, “Just surf this one… don’t try to fix the ocean.”

The wave doesn’t disappear because you ignore it. It disappears when it passes—on its own time. Your job isn’t to stop it. Your job is to ride it with as much grace as you can, and when you fall under, trust that the spin may just toss you right onto your feet again.

You don’t need to always be efficient, or perfect, or endlessly strong.

You just need to be human.

And brave.

And willing to wait for clarity, even when the wait feels unbearable.

Let the wave carry you to it.

Surf

Sometimes,

the strongest thing you can do

is not hold it all together—

but let it rise.

Let the ache have space,

let the silence breathe,

let the wave wash through

without the need to speak.

You are not failing

because you’re tired.

You are not weak

because your soul is soft.

Hold space for your own becoming

as you hold others in their storm.

Let the tide return you

to your own shoreline.

You are not lost—

you’re surfing.

–Kerri Elizabeth–