Surviving More Than This Heat

by MissT

https://divorceddamagedanddangerous.wordpress.com

It’s 33 degrees outside.
The kind of heat that clings to your skin like shame.
The kind of heat that makes you question your life choices—like leaving the fan in the attic or saying yes to the wrong person. Again.

The weather app screams “extreme”,
but darling, so am I.

Because I’ve survived more than this.

I’ve survived heat that didn’t come from the sun.
The kind that scorches your self-worth.
That leaves you tiptoeing through conversations,
that burns your throat with words you’re too scared to say.

I’ve survived the suffocation of silence in a room full of people.
The way shame trickles down your back like sweat when they say
“You should’ve left sooner,”
as if love came with exit signs and fire drills.

I’ve survived being someone’s air conditioning.
The cool breeze in their chaos.
The calm in their storm.
While I melted quietly in corners they never cared to see.

And now?
Now I sip lukewarm tea, feet up,
no man beside me asking what’s for dinner
while I’m boiling over inside.

Now I ride solo with the windows down,
sun on my face, hair wild,
no apology in sight.

Because the truth is…
The real heat?
It came from betrayal.
From bending until I cracked.
From carrying someone else’s emotional baggage in 30-degree emotional weather.

And here I am—still standing.
Sweaty, yes.
Exhausted, maybe.
But free?
Utterly.

So no, this heatwave won’t break me.

I’ve already been scorched,
burnt to ash,
and guess what?
I rose anyway.

So crank up the temperature.
I’ve survived worse.

And I’m still on fire.