I
thought I had a celebrity crush on Harvey Specter. From the very first episode
of Suits, I was drawn to his charisma, his confidence, the way he carried
himself with so much certainty and power. I admired his success, his sharpness,
his presence – and I never really questioned why. It just felt like a fun
crush on a fictional character. But it wasn’t until halfway through Season
5, when Donna left him and everything he’d been holding in started to crack, that
I began to see it differently. That was when I realized I didn’t just like him –
I saw myself in him.
Harvey
was strong, successful, admired. But underneath it all, he was afraid of being vulnerable.
He acted like nothing could break him, stayed composed, sharp, in
control. Even when he finally went for therapy, he still carried himself like
something who couldn’t afford to fall apart. And that’s when it hit me, maybe
I’ve been doing the same thing. I’ve always moved through life holding
myself together. Showing up, ticking boxes, being there for everyone.
Not
because I had everything figured out, but because I didn’t know how to let my
guard down. It’s easier to look strong than to explain the kind of tiredness
you can’t put into words. The kind that settles in your chest when you’re
holding in too much for too long. Harvey kept going. So did I. He didn’t
have the luxury to fall apart, he quietly held his pieces together. So did
I. And maybe that’s what real strength looks like. Not the loud victories,
but the quiet, private endurance. The kind that no one claps for, but that
keeps you standing.
I’m
slowly learning how to be softer with myself too.