Eli Akins

[Bhalo❤️ @Habeebbalogun]

I posted this video because it perfectly captures the kind of people who pretend to be on your side while secretly adding to your problems.

[Eli Akins @EliAkins7]

Kids are Thriving!!😉

[Eli Akins @EliAkins7]

🤦🏿‍♂️🤦🏿‍♂️🤦🏿‍♂️.

[Eli Akins @EliAkins7]

Guess I turned the hustle button back on!! 😏

[Eli Akins @EliAkins7]

You could be dying on the inside and no one will ever know. 😔

[ChristDaily @christ_the_son]

The lord shall fight for you, and you shall hold your peace.

[Eli Akins @EliAkins7]

@Cannacollectors 777

[Eli Akins @EliAkins7]

I can see it as clear as day!

[Debbytemmy ❤️🎊 @Global_Temmy]

It will surely happen

[Eli Akins @EliAkins7]

🤔😅💯

[Eli Akins @EliAkins7]

Dang I got it!!! 💯! In the game now!! There are those who play on the playground and there is those who builds the playground! 🛝!

[Eli Akins @EliAkins7]

Safe With Me

Here I am again—
holding my heart
like broken glass,
bleeding from pieces
I didn’t break.

I gave you access
to places in me
I kept locked for years.

You knew where it hurt.

And touched it anyway.

So I’m done explaining
why my heart deserves
to be handled gently.

I’ll gather the pieces.
Lock the door.
And carry what’s left home.

Because lonely may hurt—

but being mishandled
hurts worse.

So for now,
my heart stays here.

With me.

Broken or whole—

at least it’s safe.

[✞ Richard ✞ @Richard_gh1]

Isaiah 60:22

[Dear God @TheRich_Gospel]

Trust God.

[Eli Akins @EliAkins7]

THE THEORY OF THE SHELL

I built a shell.

Not because I didn’t want to be loved,
but because being open started to hurt.

The shell protects my feelings.
It protects my heart.
It protects the parts of me
I stopped explaining to people
who never tried to understand.

Behind this shell,
I can smile without telling you I’m hurting.
I can say, “I’m good,”
without having to explain why I’m not.

I can be strong for everybody
without anybody noticing
how tired strength has made me.

See, this shell wasn’t built overnight.

Every disappointment added a layer.
Every betrayal made it thicker.
Every person who said, “Trust me,”
then gave me another reason not to.

So I learned.

Don’t show too much.
Don’t say too much.
Don’t feel too much.
And whatever you do—
don’t let them see where it hurts.

Because people can’t touch
what they can’t reach.

At least…
that’s the theory of the shell.

But every now and then,
I get tired of hiding.

I want to come out.

I want somebody to know the real me—
not the protected me,
not the guarded me,
not the version of me
that has rehearsed how not to care.

So I crack the shell open.

Just a little.

I let somebody in.
I start believing maybe this time is different.
Maybe I don’t have to protect myself anymore.

And then…

I get hurt.

Again.

And suddenly,
I’m running back to the shell,
trying to repair the crack
I wish I had never opened.

And the shell gets thicker.

Because now I’m not just protecting myself
from what happened before—

I’m protecting myself
from what just happened.

But here’s what I’m beginning to realize:

A shell can protect you from pain…

but it can also imprison you from love.

The same walls that keep hurt from getting in
can keep healing from getting in too.

The shell protected me.

But maybe I was never supposed
to live inside it forever.

Maybe healing isn’t learning
how to build a stronger shell.

Maybe healing is finally becoming strong enough
to come out of it.

Yes, I may get hurt again.

Yes, somebody may mishandle my heart.

But I refuse to let what hurt me
become the place where I live.

I am more than my wounds.
More than my disappointments.
More than the people who walked away.
More than the things I never talk about.

So today…

I’m cracking the shell.

Not because the world suddenly became safe.

But because I finally realized—

I don’t want protection
to cost me freedom.

[Eli Akins @EliAkins7]

THE THEORY OF THE SHELL

I built a shell.

Not because I didn’t want to be loved,
but because being open started to hurt.

The shell protects my feelings.
It protects my heart.
It protects the parts of me
I stopped explaining to people
who never tried to understand.

Behind this shell,
I can smile without telling you I’m hurting.
I can say, “I’m good,”
without having to explain why I’m not.

I can be strong for everybody
without anybody noticing
how tired strength has made me.

See, this shell wasn’t built overnight.

Every disappointment added a layer.
Every betrayal made it thicker.
Every person who said, “Trust me,”
then gave me another reason not to.

So I learned.

Don’t show too much.
Don’t say too much.
Don’t feel too much.
And whatever you do—
don’t let them see where it hurts.

Because people can’t touch
what they can’t reach.

At least…
that’s the theory of the shell.

But every now and then,
I get tired of hiding.

I want to come out.

I want somebody to know the real me—
not the protected me,
not the guarded me,
not the version of me
that has rehearsed how not to care.

So I crack the shell open.

Just a little.

I let somebody in.
I start believing maybe this time is different.
Maybe I don’t have to protect myself anymore.

And then…

I get hurt.

Again.

And suddenly,
I’m running back to the shell,
trying to repair the crack
I wish I had never opened.

And the shell gets thicker.

Because now I’m not just protecting myself
from what happened before—

I’m protecting myself
from what just happened.

But here’s what I’m beginning to realize:

A shell can protect you from pain…

but it can also imprison you from love.

The same walls that keep hurt from getting in
can keep healing from getting in too.

The shell protected me.

But maybe I was never supposed
to live inside it forever.

Maybe healing isn’t learning
how to build a stronger shell.

Maybe healing is finally becoming strong enough
to come out of it.

Yes, I may get hurt again.

Yes, somebody may mishandle my heart.

But I refuse to let what hurt me
become the place where I live.

I am more than my wounds.
More than my disappointments.
More than the people who walked away.
More than the things I never talk about.

So today…

I’m cracking the shell.

Not because the world suddenly became safe.

But because I finally realized—

I don’t want protection
to cost me freedom.