I am not your emotional dumping ground
When you’re stressed about things that are not me, I am not your punching bag. Or when you’re stressed about things that are me, I am not here to decode your veiled jabs and attacks while I lick my wounds and find my feet again.
When I ask for more support, or for clear communication, lashing out at me tells me that you don’t respect me or the request that I’ve made. It tells me that the work that I do to hold space for you to be a messy, imperfect human being is not something you think that I deserve equally. It tells me that you either don’t see or don’t care that I, too, am a person struggling to make sense of our complicated lives.
When you expect me to make things right for you, what position does that leave me in? It is not cruel for me to step back and walk away. These problems are bigger than we are, and I’m not here to solve them for you.
I am not here to make your world right. I am not here to hold your hand and paint over all that’s ugly and painful in the world. Sometimes, I don’t have the strength to hold up that facade for you. Sometimes, I just want to be a mess, too.
I am not here to chase you down, to pull you in. I’m not here to hold you accountable to treating me with kindness and care.
I am here to get shit done. I am here to have fun. I am here to create community, and share in the burden of the responsibility for doing that. The good, the bad, and the untenable.
I am here to support you as you support me. I am here for equity and compassion. I am here to connect, to love, to laugh, to cry, to build amazing things.
I commit to dig deep into my own reactions, responses, and the bullshit 30 long years has hammered home. I commit to caring for myself so that I can care for you.