The Courtesy That Wasn’t by E.R.B.L at Inkitt

Story Notes

A person struggles with the emotional toll of constantly putting others before themselves. They often agree to things out of fear of conflict, suppressing their own feelings to maintain harmony. When people ask for their opinion or permission, it’s merely a formality -decisions are made regardless of their response. This pattern leads to quiet resentment, internal guilt, and self-blame. They begin to feel invisible, questioning their own value and emotional responses. Despite the pain, they continue to yield, believing it’s better to hurt silently than cause discomfort. Over time, this self-neglect leads to emotional exhaustion. In their quiet breaking point, they turn to God—not for answers, but for healing. Though they feel unseen by others, they trust that someone greater truly understands. The story ends with a soft surrender—not to the people around them, but to the hope that they, too, are worthy of care, especially from themselves.

Summary

There’s a deep ache in constantly putting others first, in keeping your discomfort quiet just to keep the peace. You learn to hold back what you truly feel, convincing yourself that silence equals goodness, that going along with others means you're easy to love. But inside, a slow bitterness grows. Every time you go unheard, every time your honest answer is brushed aside, something inside you dims. When someone pretends to care how you feel but goes ahead with their plans anyway, it feels like a small betrayal. You start to question your worth, even blame yourself for the pain. You wonder if you’re too emotional, too weak, or too much of a burden. So, you shrink yourself to fit into spaces where you're only accepted if you stay quiet. Eventually, that quiet becomes a prison. But in the middle of that heaviness, there’s a small, desperate prayer, hoping for someone greater to notice the damage. Healing doesn't come quickly, and trusting again feels impossible. But there’s a quiet faith that maybe, just maybe, you can learn to care for yourself the way you’ve always cared for others. That someone beyond all this sees your heart and won’t ignore it.

Genre: Humor/Mystery

Author: E.R.B.L

Status: Complete

Chapters: 1

Rating: n/a

Age Rating: 13+

Chapter 1

I used to think being quiet made me kind.

That if I swallowed my emotions hard enough, they would disappear somewhere beneath the surface, dissolve into goodness. Maybe people would love me more if I never disagreed, never stood in the way, always smiled and said, “It’s fine.”

But every time I silenced my heart to make someone else comfortable, I carved a little more of myself away. Like handing out pieces of my soul hoping it would make others stay. Instead, I stayed quiet, agreeable, invisible.

And then there were those moments… the ones where someone would say, “I just wanted to ask if you’re okay with this.” Or, “I hope you don’t mind, but…”

The illusion of choice. The illusion of care.

Because when I finally worked up the courage to say “no,” to whisper even a hesitant “I’m not okay with that,”

they would do it anyway.

So what was the point?

Just a formality. A knife with a smile.

I wasn’t being asked. I was being informed.

And when it hurt, I felt guilty for even feeling that pain.

I told myself I was too sensitive. Too selfish. Too much.

I blamed myself for being hurt, for caring, for wanting to be seen.

And each time, I stuffed the ache deeper into the corners of my chest, hoping it would shrivel into nothing.

But it didn’t.

It grew heavy. It grew sharp.

Every unspoken word weighed me down.

Every “yes” that should’ve been a “no” echoed back as self-betrayal.

Still, I kept pleasing.

Because it’s easier to be hurt than to be the one who hurts.

Easier to disappear into their comfort than risk disrupting their peace.

And now, I sit here full of silence and shame.

Not because of what they did,

but because I let myself go unheard again.

But this time, I whispered something different:

“God, only You see the pieces I’ve lost. Only You know how many times I’ve nodded through the breaking. Please… put me back together.”

I don’t know when healing will come.

I don’t know when I’ll stop hating myself for being soft, for feeling too much.

But I do know this:

Even when they don’t hear me, He does.

Even when they ignore my boundaries, He cradles the aftermath.

I am tired of being the easy one.

But I will not stop being kind.

I will just start being kind to myself, too.

And maybe…that’s where healing begins.