Head tilt.
Soft voice.
The performance begins:
“Just… stay strong.”
As if you’re not already holding more than most people could survive.
As if strength is a light switch.
As if you haven’t been clenching your jaw for six months straight and still managing to schedule your own follow-ups.
Let’s stop pretending “strength” means smiling through it.
You’re not a Pinterest quote.
You’re not a pink ribbon campaign.
You’re a person... with nerve endings and mood swings and a body you maybe don’t even recognize anymore.
Some days strength is dragging yourself out of bed.
Other days it’s crying in the car, then walking into the grocery store anyway.
Both count.
Neither are cute.
And neither need to be.
Let’s Redefine This Word Everyone Loves to Weaponize
Strength isn’t saying “I’m fine” with a twitch in your left eye.
It isn’t silence.
It’s not politeness.
Real strength is messy.
It’s saying, “Actually, I’m not okay today.”
It’s slamming the door.
It’s asking for help without putting an apology at the end.
It’s choosing softness when the world expects steel.
You Get to Fall Apart
Fall apart. Loudly. Quietly. Elegantly. Disastrously.
Wear the hoodie four days in a row.
Leave texts unanswered.
Say you miss your old body and mean it.
Say you’re angry that this is your reality and let that be the end of the sentence.
None of that disqualifies you from being strong.
It just makes you honest.
Which, frankly, we need more of.
And Yet—You Keep Showing Up
For your kid. Your job.
Your doctor. Your dog.
Yourself.
You’re still here—scheduling fittings, emailing us at 2 a.m., wondering if the bra you chose is the one that will make you feel just a little bit like you again.
That’s the strength no one markets.
The kind that doesn’t sparkle on a T-shirt.
At Myya, We’re Not Here to Tell You to Stay Strong
We’re here to make sure you know:
You already are.
Not because you buttoned it all up—but because you didn’t.
You allowed the truth to exist.
You felt what you needed to feel.
And you still showed up for yourself.
So when you fall apart?
We’ll hold the rest.
That’s why our bras don’t pinch.
That’s why our fittings feel like quiet rooms with people who get it.
That’s why we push insurance companies to do better.
That’s why we treat you like a person—not a project.
No slogans. No sugarcoating. No “warrior” language required.
Just support that fits.
Even when nothing else does.
