There is a moment —
and if you’ve lived it, you know —
when things are burning…
and yet you stay still.
The fire isn’t visible to others.
But you feel it.
It curls around your ribs like smoke.
It lives in your throat, choking the words you’ve been too afraid to say.
And still… you don’t move.
Because someone, somewhere taught you
not to make a scene.
Not to cause trouble.
Not to break things.
Even when your body is screaming for help.
Even when your soul is barely standing.
And there it is —
the emotional fire alarm.
Sitting behind glass.
Waiting.
You see it.
You know it’s there.
You know what it says:
In Case of Emergency, Break Glass.
But your hand won’t move.
Because deep down, you were conditioned to believe
asking for help is dangerous.
That you’ll be punished for it.
Mocked for it.
Abandoned because of it.
So you stay.
You endure.
You try to act like the flames are normal.
Like you’re just “a little stressed.”
Like the room isn’t burning down around you.
But here’s the truth:
You are allowed to break the glass.
You are allowed to make noise.
You are allowed to shatter the silence
that someone else told you to protect.
Breaking the glass doesn’t make you weak.
It makes you free.
It is not your job to prove to others that the fire exists.
It is not your job to sit in it quietly.
It is not your job to be consumed by it.
If you need help —
ask.
If it hurts —
say so.
If you feel unsafe —
don’t wait for permission.
Break the glass.
You don’t need approval to survive.
And you are not wrong for wanting to be safe.
Not now.
Not ever.
