The Stoic

You don't flinch. That's the gift and the problem.

The stillness other people mistake for peace. You know exactly what is underneath it.

In the world.

In a crisis, the room finds your face and reads it for the verdict. You don't raise your voice. You don't waste a word. You've cultivated a stillness other people mistake for peace. And a self-sufficiency they mistake for invitation. You give exactly what's asked and rarely more. You're the safest person to need, and the hardest one to actually reach.

What it has cost you.

The intimacy that needed you to be visibly unsteady, once. The help you wouldn't ask for, that you would have given anyone. The friendships that stayed pleasant because nothing was ever risked.

What you fear.

That needing someone is the beginning of losing yourself.

You also share the tribe with

The Alchemist

The Sybil

The Pilgrim