The Smile That Covered Everything

Step 3 of The ABV Healing Map - for the ones who vanished so they could stay.

Some kids disappear by going quiet. Some disappear by becoming invisible. And some? Some disappear by being the funny one.

Not everyone fought. Some of us became the light in the room. The ease. The one who could turn tension into laughter...even if it was eating us inside.

It starts early. A joke here. A well-timed comment there. And when the room shifts? When the mood lightens? That’s the reward. Not love. Not presence. But relief.

So you keep going. You get good at it. Really good.

Sometimes you’re not even in the wrong, but you’ll use humour anyway. Because if it can make things better when it’s not your fault then surely it will work when it is.

And it does. For a while.

I’ve seen it in people. They smile before they speak. They read the room faster than anyone else. They’re praised for being kind, mature, helpful. No one asks what it cost.

I’ve lived it too. Not because I wanted to be fake. But because keeping the peace felt safer than being fully seen. Because if they’re laughing, they can’t be angry. And if the mood lifts, maybe they’ll forget what they were carrying. Maybe the room won’t feel as heavy.

That’s what some of us learned. Not from books. Not from school. But from how love disappeared the moment we showed anything inconvenient. From how survival meant performing. From how care became a currency and we learned how to earn it.

Some of us became listeners too early. Some became the go-between. Some became conflict-resolution experts at 15. Because when the family is fractured, sometimes the child becomes the glue.

And they’ll thank you for it. They’ll seek you out. The uncles. The aunties. The elders. Because somehow you always make people feel better.

But no one stops to ask why. Why you’re keeping the peace before anyone realises there’s a problem. Why you're the one steadying the atmosphere but no one ever asks how you're holding it together.

You don’t even notice the disappearance until years later. When your body hesitates. A flicker of tension in your shoulders. A scan of the room before you decide who to be.

And they call it maturity. Or empathy. Or strength. But deep down you know...it was survival. A nervous system map. That helped you stay safe in rooms where truth wasn’t welcome.

I’ve sat with people who hadn’t spoken honestly in decades. Not because they didn’t have words but because they learned early that telling the truth about how they felt wasn’t always safe.

Yusuf (AS) was thrown in a well. Then hidden. Used. Misunderstood. But Allah never stopped watching over him. “They hid him like merchandise but Allah was fully aware.” (12:19) So if you feel like you disappeared to survive… you're not alone. And you were never invisible to Him.

The good news? You don’t have to perform anymore. You don’t have to be the peacekeeper. Or the glue. You’re allowed to rest. You’re allowed to say how you feel. You’re allowed to speak without softening it first.

The body that learned how to disappear can learn how to come back.

It takes time. But it’s possible.

Not just to keep the peace. Not just to be the glue. But to be whole.

And the One who never left you… can bring you home.

Next: Some of us stayed too long in the wrong story. But we thought it was loyalty.

If any of this landed - even quietly - you're not the only one. I'm building this map one step at a time. You can walk it with me. Just drop your email below to get the next post when it's ready.