Dear me,
10pm and the group chat Singles is exploding on my display.
Voice messages, funny gifs, and the inevitable man talk.
I am avoidant in my replies.
In my head they sound sharper than I mean them to.
And I am sitting here thinking —
should I confront my friend, or should I support her?
And what is the difference, if I actually care about her?
One gives me the halo.
The other will most likely pull her away from sharing next time.
Or worse — make her hate me for being right,
if I turn out to be right.
The villain is external. You can blame him and survive the story.
But your friend being right kills the fantasy completely.
—
So isn't it the same with I am enough?
Who do you think learns to swim better —
the kid thrown into the pool with no choice,
or the one waiting to feel ready?
One of the coaches produces champions.
The other produces people who almost made it.
And they are both called love.A good teacher should be hated just a little.
I was the one waiting to feel ready.
And I wish someone had pushed me toward the sharks
and slapped the victimhood I was so dramatically crowned in,
right off my head.
—
Enough kept me very, very busy.
And very, very blind.
Here's what nobody tells you about victim mentality —
it's not weakness.
It's an incredibly sophisticated survival strategy.
As long as you are enough,
you never have to change anything.
You never have to risk anything.
You never have to fail in front of witnesses.
And failure in front of witnesses —
that is the real terror.
Not failure itself.
The audience for it.
Enough keeps you offstage.
And offstage people confuse safety with peace.
—
Dear me,
If you are truly content —
why are you asking yourself if you are enough?That question only appears when underneath all the positive affirmations,
all the healing talk,
you already know the answer.
Enough isn't a compliment.
Enough is a life-sized excuse.
And I never asked myself
once I actually started saying no to for the last time.
What is enough for you already says enough.
The only control I have is to stay or to go.
I understand how harsh that sounds.
And how lonely.
—
I am realising I have no tolerance left for victimhood.
And the crown needs to be burned.
Not handed over.
So I refuse to give you the comfort talk.
And if that's not your way —
we just swim in different size pools.
I also understand that I am retiring from the theatre —
as the main victim act
and every supporting role attached to it.
The people I want around me now
are the ones who can take it.
The ones who know to hate the teacher a little
but never lose respect for the lesson.—
Dear me,
Enough is a supermarket metaphor.
Enough to stock the shelves.
Not enough to run the place.
I am done stocking shelves
in a life I built too small
for the woman currently causing problems inside it.
She needs more room.
—
He is an asshole. You can tell by the way he carries himself.
And if you want to continue trying with him,
at least make sure he doesn't have you unless he tries real hard for it.
And I sent it to the group chat.
—
1:42am.
Green light notification.
He just left my house. I fucked him.
Ego hates witnesses more than loneliness.
Is this enough?