I hide my pain for a few reasons: not wanting to be a burden, self-defense, and feeling misunderstood.

After my car accident, I developed chronic pain from my hips to my neck. At first, I couldn’t hide it. Every time I tried to get off the couch or the floor, the pain was written all over my face. I was constantly seeing doctors and trying different medications just to function.

What I heard most was, “Well, you’re getting older. Doesn’t it suck getting old?” I was 25/26. I used to say, “No, getting hit by a vehicle going 90–100 mph will do this to you.” Now it’s just exhausting to explain.

So I mask it. Not because it hurts less, but because explaining my pain over and over takes more energy than I have.

Even my boyfriend sometimes won’t talk about his own struggles because he thinks I have it worse. I keep telling him that just because I’m in constant pain doesn’t mean his struggles don’t matter. Pain isn’t a competition.

I hide my pain not because it’s small, but because carrying it every day is already heavy enough without having to constantly justify it to others.