In this work, I’ve learned that if I don’t define my own “I,” others will project theirs onto me, erasing me and reproducing the projection of their own fears and needs and desires. I know myself now—no others’ projections will annihilate my “I.”
In this work, I’ve learned that my forward momentum is mine—I own it. I’ve learned that when someone fucks with my ability to move forward, they fuck with my entire life. I’ve learned that when those humans steal my power to progress, they are liable. I’ve learned how to hold them accountable.
In this work, I’ve learned that those who say, “this is just how life is–it’s tough out there, get used to it!”—are full of shit. It doesn’t have to be this hard. People who don’t want to change (or know they never can) want us to believe life’s just rough—”always has been, always will be.” Their ugly view doesn’t have to be mine, doesn’t have to be anyone’s perspective who knows they can choose to orient differently.
In this work, I’ve learned to stand proudly in my naïveté. They tell me–in their condescending responses to my alarm, my objections, the evidence—that I’m just not experienced enough to recognize that they know what they’re doing. That’s bullshit: I’m experienced in ways they simply cannot understand. Their years creating the same damage doesn’t make them less naïve; it has made them blindly and dangerously destructive.
In this work, I’ve learned that some of them search for a personal or professional “flaw” that will silence my voice. Bullshit: No one has to be a saint to advocate for what’s right. Only those with the most to hide do it behind the defense of their own “sainthood.”
In this work, I’ve learned that those who console with non-unique claims–with hugs from the idea that “the carnage is everywhere, so it doesn’t really matter what you do, you may has well hang it up”—are also full of shit: their disconnect orients them to ease me into the same disconnect. The mess is massive, and we need to keep working to clean it up. We cannot afford fatalism.