It’s tricky. It comes and goes. I’m still not sure if those workshops are a good idea cuz even when I’m not thinking about it, it’s lurking there in the back of my mind simply due to the nature of the beast.

(Side note: I can’t believe that fucking jerk tried to talk to me like we’re friends. Maybe she was just being pleasant and, considering she is fucking terrible at boundaries, that’s the only way she knows how. Still though. FUCK HER.)

I was talking to my therapist this week about how wonderful it is to have a physical goal to focus on because the results may be incremental but they’re measurable and consistent and so much more tangible than emotional goals. It was a good talk. This week has been hard though. Hard in ways that I haven’t really had to deal with in awhile.

I’m reading this incredible romance by this new-to-me author that writes really phenomenal contemporary, some of which has a kinky slant, and I came across this quote and it blew my mind.


THIS. So much this. I posted it on fb and I know that everyone who responded to it did so with their own lens, that it doesn’t necessarily mean for them what it means for me and that’s ok. For me though … this so beautifully encapsulates everything I want to say to the people (especially you) that were so insistent that I get to a place where I can forgive. To be honest, they’re probably still so insistent but I don’t associate with them anymore. Fuck them. I am not in that place. I am not ready to forgive and, quite frankly, no one has ever apologised. At least, no one who caused actual harm. It hit me that I need that. I know I won’t get it – it’s purely a pipe dream – but I need it. This isn’t super surprising, considering how powerful it was when she apologised back in January. Even knowing that it was basically meaningless and just to make her feel better about herself, it was powerful. I need you to apologise. You won’t and that sucks. You’d have to acknowledge that you did something wrong. You’d have to acknowledge my personhood. I’m sure you’ve concocted some story about how I need to apologise or whatever – more of that bullshit about how you’re so hurt and angry (and how fucking dare you, btw). Still though. I need you to apologise. You won’t. That sucks.

Later in this amazeballs book, I came across this quote and I cried.


That’s really the crux of it, isn’t it. You never expected the best from me. You were always waiting for the other shoe to drop, always convinced that my assholery was about to attack, always throwing up walls and guards to make sure that I wouldn’t get away with it unscathed.

It took me MONTHS to understand that I couldn’t pin any hopes on you, or your ability to come through. I believed you and I believed IN you. Sometimes I still do. That sucks too. It really, really does.




In retrospect, of course it was a bad idea. I know better. Hell, ninety percent of the time I wouldn’t even have been tempted! (Or so it feels these days …)

… but they looked so cozy and friendly and I wanted so desperately to belong that the words were out of my mouth before my brain had caught up.

Gods, the looks on their faces. It was obvious that the knowledge I shouldn’t have had came as an unpleasant shock. How dare I, really? What service could I possibly think to provide THEM in their exaltedness? It seemed best at the time to brazen through it, as pausing and retreating might have drawn more attention than pretending it wasn’t a big deal … but it was, of course. It IS.

And that absolute meany. To preach at me about friendship and love – all while damning the rest of them – and then sit there aligned in solidarity against me, the malicious interloper, the antagonistic presence.

Fuck it. Fuck them. Fuck her. Fuck all of it.

I will never fit. I will never be welcome. I’ve lost even the worthiness for the bare minimum effort of pretending I’m marginally tolerated.

How the pain of that burns, deep down inside, right through all of the pride I had at getting to a place where I had let go …

I’m just a huge ball of shame and stupidity.